Minefields.
Turns out I was wrong about quite a few things, But mostly myself, I am bad at begginings, just as I am bad at endings, I am only good in between, I have always been a combination of mismatches, a complete list of incomplete tasks, Like poorly coordinated cloths, made of colors that don't work well together, An outfit of magenta and mossy green. A pair of pants that doesn't fit right, a recipe with imbalanced flavours, a great project poorly executed, An eloquent poem, well written, badly performed. Some days my heart is as light as a dandelion, other days it is a fist of steel, I feel every beat like a punch in my ribs, And I bleed. I know people have walls around them, Impenetrable and secure, I don't have walls, I am surrounded by minefields, And I have lost the blueprint , No one can come in and I csnt come out. Most of the time it feels like my body can't function without maintaining a certain level of sadness. That's the only way it kn...