Rough Edged

February 2, 2014
It's like the metamorphosis

Doesn't want me to succeed

But I can't embellish on the vibe

Of transition killing me

It's in the air around me

Lingering like the tension in a mood

I'd say that I deserve the disillusion

But to myself I've been so cruel

It's a passion for the transformation

But it leaves the discarded shell so hollow and alone

I walk the world my face conceled and music blasting

Rewinding memoirs in my head of where I've roamed

I feel the urge to speak but no necessity

Because the vein can never pulse amongst the dead

And the city sleeps amongst these kindred listeners

A better conversation piece than most of my friends

The feeling of a woman beside you is irreplacable

But at best this is a battle I have long since lost

For the edges adorn my skin, rough and jagged, yes indeed

And for this the price I pay is indeed a heavy cost

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