i knew something was wrong with me,
i started thinking how freud was right,
that i’m fooling myself to think i’m fine,
how it’s just a base nature in our systems,
right? the hormones, the lust, the humanity
and the purpose, so maybe i just wanted to
lift humanity off my shoulders for a while,
and let it all go in desperate loud moans
because it was how i want to be freed,
but i never am, i live in my own head often,
i’m a slave to my own body and mind,
the romantic part of me just wants
the next one to be the right one,
so i don’t have to bother pretending,
or be drawn to the hurt of infatuation,
but i have to wake up, right?
if i’m going to sleep soundly again,
i need to stop laying myself down in filth,
if i want my heart to stay alive,
i have to wash sins off and mute the devils.
and then maybe when i’m older,
i can learn to live with self-forgiveness.
i want to be at peace with myself,
before i ever hear beautiful again,
otherwise, i don’t think it’ll ever matter.