When I was 13 the world was dead
My eyes saw
Only the enevitable decay
My soul felt only destruction
A kaliedoscope collection of misfit kids
Freaks adorned in thrift store costumes
Wandering the streets in the dead of night
Crunching leaves beneath
Shoes afflicted with holes
It’s strange to grow up
With no supervision
It’s surreal to watch
Your heroes fail
Themselves and you
I watch us now
Older
Some of us repeat the mantra
I will never be like them
Some have become phoenixes
And some…
They embody the Uroborus
Devouring themselves
In a cycle of ruin and rebirth
All the while I am staring into the void
Climbing the highest cliff just to see
If this time I will jump
There is a fine line between bravery
And recklessness
And I am yet to figure out where it is
But I can say this
I am happy
The world has never been more alive
My scars only remind me
How beautiful these freaks
That I love so desperately are
We are the ones who live through the nightmares
And keep our dreams alive
Iconoclastgrey Word Artist 