How to disappear. Need to fix my perspective. Washing my soul clean. This is my frontier. And this is my directive. Existing half seen My task is unclear, But I won't be deflective. Stuck here in between. Struggling for years. Yearning for a perspective. Vanishing foreseen. Do I exist here? Am I just irrespective? Will I not still bleed? Now I only sneer As I thank the corrective And remain unseen
About the Creator
Colt Henderson
I usually write horror.
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