Is it the doom i chase with my words
that there will never be enough words to paint my pain
that there will never be enough colors to write my scars
Is it the constant seeking that keeps me going
The unsatiated desire to be heard
That I will scream in a thousand languages
Yet never learn to hear them in others
Doomed to never hear that my pain has said it's piece
Or perhaps there are no methods
no outlets
no words
no colors
no shades
no time
or tears
that would ever express every drop of you that has been poured into my mind
the oceans will never be less than the land
Is it the fate of the ocean-bearer that I must learn to breath the water and hate the land?
I chase doom
I chase fate
I chase desire
But most importantly I will always chase you
I will always chase the release, the capturing of the past self that hides behind me like a shadow that never wants to grow up