This is a letter to my past, stuck staring at the mirror wondering why this feels as it does, my opinion is not much but what is felt is much.
Sorry is a word when admitted can change much but how is it that we got this bad, this corrupt and this harsh, words spoken but nothing counts anymore.
This is a letter to my past, I saw what I saw, heard what I heard but played the blind and deaf victim.
Stood before the closed door, heard sounds and cries that seemed different from what I was used to, that was round two but I now reap what I thought I had to.
These games put I in a twilight, how do you trust if you can’t have it anymore to bare, to chest or swallow because it just…