The rejuvenation of my spirit is only a rebirth
A subject predicated in enlightenment
I've been through years of depreciated predicates
I'm not suppose to be here.
And I'm not.
I am not the same person I saw in the mirror.
Self hatred is a perspective
Not my identity.
The onomonopia you call my voice was only a personified version.
Your prospective of who I am.
Is only the BANG in my gunshot
A whoosh in the wind.
A brief moment.
Reunion in the communion is what you witnessed.
But who's to say that you experienced this.
I guess it's me who witnessed your existence

© TheUpsetMillennial