Synonyms take the place of what the disaster of the word alone stands for.
All negative conjunctions towards each other interfere with the slow climb up the stairway to gold.
A state of mind no more real than anger, pretenses condense the state of juvenile mistakes that play over and over rejecting my own happiness.
Lessons learned along the road put into play as the foundations to my reality are set in stone
I can build a castle, but I'm still looking for my home.
The fear pumps and flows through the cortex sending signals through my nervous system
And as I catch my breath for just one gasp, a singular break in my ever rapidly beating heart took flight
Without the ability to give and take, this energy sits stagnant, manifesting to clouding my sight.
Too frightened to receive, too anxious to put forth; condemning my mind to the seduction of its own cage.
The time of different has came, life twists to a different play and urges time to perform on a different stage
~ Miss Riddle
© Thy Phoenix Fountain