even after years of holding onto my deepest desire to create, to live, and to grow only one thing remains evident and it is that the most beautiful obstruction to what revolves me as an individual and what gives me fruit is tied to the boundless sense of curiosity being continually abstracted through my morals and my values and most importantly my choices
i used to rely on trivial things as a beacon of what wishful thinking can lead and what a vivid imagination can inspire but all of it fails when it begs the question to what makes a man true and what would make him insatiably satisfied
knowing how my life continues to shift and evolve, the path back then has never been brighter now, and i can only wish i was able to console myself when I realized to forgive
to edge the shades in a different shadow, spoken lightly among the stars drifting along the edge pulled towards the winds, some things in my control are among its own constellation, and I held by gravity
a gravity measured by how much comfort can comfort provide until the truth resides next to public lies but when comfort is held by a curtain and loose ties, i can't find comfort because of all the things i've mistaken
every right and wrong, every good and bad, it is all a measure of what makes a life worth living
