I’m okay

I feel the repetition,

Im grounded to my vile never ending iteration,

and surfing on an everlasting violation of my growth.

Everything comes out as understatements,

to hide the apparent fever.

A torment I strive to keep concealed when the question marks pop.

Stranded by a truth I fail to break from

and that lets me suffocate quietly.

A frighting outcome is forcing my fire to dim.

Only the braves will exult

And if only I was enough of that.

And hope is scarce when your shallowness

Swallows you whole.

But who’s gonna drop the colors

and feed a satiated state of mind ?