I have no clue what to type.
I have no clue who you are.
I have thoughts, of breaking the world.
Though I know there are good people.
If they hold a room in my mind, I hope they will find another room to hide for I will never be found by gold and tresures.
I hardly believe they are there for me.
I hardly believe they have the slightest geniune care for me.
For I am damaged goods to their eyes.
I am, I am, I am.
But who are they?
People change in almost every way
People lie and hurt people everyday
People may not tell me but I know who they want.
They want me in a vault, with their issues drowning slowly away until that room for them is full and for they will latch onto someone else and lie to keep that room.
They are a room keeper.
I am a holder.
Though their knives go deeper into my mind.
I try to find the...