Queen of Unfinished Poetry

no more love, I’ve lost myself and gave all i could give.

my importance in this universe is just to exist.

I keep telling myself to stay quiet.

Put my ideas on mute just to steer clear from all the violence.

No matter what I say or do

You’ll still say it’s untrue.

But am I a liar?

And when I speak my own truth you stare at me in refute.

As if I’m the one who set the relationship a fire.

But I stand quiet.

And it isn’t until nights like this...

like does life gets easier once i’m on my last breath.

will thoughts just disappear or will they go more into depth.

is god real or is it all just a myth.

are we reincarnated or do we just seize to exist.

will my conscience stay awake or will it all just digress.

does the body have a spirit, if not

then what’s left?

will it finally get rid of pain and all of my stress.

She’s not undeserving but still is learning, she’s worth more than what is projected for her to be.

popular by belief

similiar by thought

anxious by mind

and loved by heart.

fight by fist

action through risks.

i need something or someone to write about, my subject matter is important.

my distorted stories and depressing poetry have seem to become sorta boring.

i either need to fall in love or break a heart to figure out this proportion.