Sitting in a multi-million dollar building by myself, Echoes tend to get louder while I write a rhyme I belch, From the bottom of a heart to the top of a helm, Moving in circles while I stare at an angel, And, Demon I couldn’t help, But, Ignore. Doesn’t matter how many tears I stream down my eyes when I spot a fight, Or, Flight response at the center of a core, Full of thoughts I need to pour out… All I care about ia breathing, Being how I can’t catch my breath with so many thoughts running through my mind. And, All I have is the man in a bathroom mirror that doesn’t seem to mind, My companh, While every closed door is secured by lullabies along summaries, Of a past I couldn’t run from. Unless, I pen a poem inking a brighter future where the sun will be… Here? I don’t want to be… How I’ve been living isn’t ideal no matter the amount of lines I jot in these, Journals running out of space every time. Just like, Everybody promising they wouldn’t change without it ever becoming a lie…
m3l0dicverse 
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