Afraid of what my forthcoming will bring me.
The fact that i have been trying my best to do what i need to, within me.
Does not give me a good reason to be contented with myself.
Or maybe not. I am not trying hard enough.
The width of my elation or maybe sentiment, it gives me something to drown myself in.
Perhaps i should stop. Who knows how much longer i can
put up with myself? I am so dull. Even my facade is breaking.
What more.. could i even give from this tiny heart of mine? That would be
at least give a sense of satisfactory to you, my loved one. I am sparse.
Everything within me is faltering. That only, i can reassure.
On the other hand, my apparent lack of eloquence is starting
to get on my nerves. It gives me such limited barriers of what
my expressionless being needs.
Till then,
x
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