Ten thousand miles from home turned eighteen.
New chapter but found the pages a little heavy,
Tried turning them but ended up ripping some.
You could call it self-sabotage and it gave me a reason for camouflage.

For a while I used to feel static,
now the chaos seems melodramatic.
The new world around me momentarily felt staged.
Each day is a new memory that gets stamped in my head.

Struggled to vent out the air of melancholy,
I’ve been handed a new loss each week.
Knowing well that the only one to blame is me.
all enough reasons to feel lost.

Carried with me lies, doubts, hopes and dreams,
It’s just that even that little hope overpowers the doubt.
Isn’t that what life’s all about,
Finding answers to questions I never had, and questions to answers I already had.

Don’t mind me, I’ve been changing every day,
Wondering if it’s for the better or the worse?
About this predicament, only time will tell,
Until then I hope my reality doesn’t end up morbid.

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