Lately I feel so dirty, so dam confused that I don't know what to think. I wish I can accomplish all that is of importance to me. I don’t know. I have a long list of desires, my dreams and admirations. Honestly, I feel incapable to do a lot sometimes, just wasting my time, my breath, just killing everything because of my lack of progression.

I alone can be the only one who succeeds for me, nobody else. I have became an inspiring artist my Sophomore year of high school, and look, I can’t even illustrate what I imagine the way I wish. I admire health and fitness, and I have been researching and training for years and still no major progression. I’m aware that time can heal all wounds and success takes time, but while everybody else is climbing mountains, I tread hills.

I am a happy, loyal, protective, and caring person. I live life and stare death in the face and laugh. But, it’s a half-heartedly chuckle. One can wear a mask with a smile upon it, one that portrays you has a stronger person. But the mask is just an illusion, a figment that says "I’m alright, I’ll meet you there," when you silently wish you had your hand held and guided through the mine field safer and more confident.

The most loyal people have the biggest holes in their hearts. Is it that we desire the same glue that closes the hole, or is it that we are just scared of what might occur? Loyalty works both ways. You can be that soldier that protects the line behind you, protect the poorly protected. But those who place their foot over the line of battle leave their backs bare and vulnerable. So what’s the use of a person being so protectively loyal when it leaves them in the middle, taking shots from every direction.

It’s pitiful to be such a caring person. So freaking bittersweet, so malnourished. You can go on through life looking at masks and you wouldn’t even know it. The world is so cruel, we all know it, we’re all aware that there is a dagger around every corner. But why live that way? Why live with a bloody dagger in your hands? The person caring for you is not a toy, not a piece of plastic that can be twisted this way and that. The boy who puts your soul in front of his is the keeper, he deserves to have your word and know that you mean it, not turn the bend and see you slicing his heart in two.

Life has so many great things to see and to share. But when you finally see enough and you cannot bare to witness another gaze, what do you do? Shouldn’t love be an answer? Love is pure, fabricated by the angels themselves, a shining jewel that is meant to shine in the light so you can admire the breathtaking colors that you visualize when you give a part of you. Instead of Iris beaming her rainbow, forming a connection, the devil himself sends his fallen angels through in a shade of sadness.

The heart is a soft and tender muscle, but is the strongest part of you. But why does it hurt the most? The epitome of the strong, where an alpha only shows his weakness to his princess and they gaze upon the moon and watch the silver stag race across the sky with his huntress atop. When love is pure you feel its essence coursing through you, groping her cheek and embracing her connection to yours. Bridging your life-forces together forming one. The powerful beat of her heart rippling through her chest into your hands and the heat of her skin touching yours, feeling as if you are the only of your kind.

Although it’s quick to become blind as their is an apocalypse behind all the luscious clouds and the sweet aroma of the flowers. In truth, love is poisoned, you ripped apart from one another and live with poison in your veins. That naïve, yet joyous moment is over, and you face reality that you were meant to experience. You go through life pondering why it were you who was chosen to stand in the way of it all and watch the gleaming light dim and darken as you form a shell of nonexistence. Tiring of handing over your heart, and having it be dissolved. Why must you be the last leaf before winter, and wade it out. Is there a cure for personal torture? A non manipulative that won’t scar me even further.