The Eyes Have It

In despair I gasp for air but your hands keep me quiet.

An inner riot of self-hate deliberates the (in) jury of my peers emotions that festered inside.

Being like them made my life seem abbreviated. I didn’t feel alive. Much less appreciated.

My choice is to see the negative.

The reality I see. God is inside, but what is inside of me?

I choose to leave my dreams. Deferred.

They seem far-fetched. A murky grip of reality.

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