Continues Ends

there's a weight to my eyes and soul

you strip with soft words and singing

and amidst this, the best of me halts

the worst parts beginning

I internally prod depths, I employ skepticism

only to pause,

reflecting and realizing these ugly instincts

my gambits to escape old traumas,

almost in vain with a future infected

with the hells found in yesterdays,

in the paths I've rejected

and this is not fair to you,

to attribute patterns I saw in others

within the beauty that binds us;

it seems I don't have reference

as blindness accompanies knowledge,

understanding less as I get closer

so just how sad is it?

that I'd easier accept detriment

than stray from the pessimism

to see your purity for what it is?

I'm taken aback by your kindness

I tease fate's malice,

but I'm getting better through you