Overture

The biggest curse one can have is low self-esteem.

Anything and everything can make you crack.

You feel the adrenaline in your system flowing so often that it becomes your norm.

A hormone is preparing you to die at whatever you do.

And you let it take you as its slave.

You've never done drugs yet you're a crack addict.

Or even worse.

You are afraid to try anything new.

All that's old bores you and is no longer enough.

Actually, you're beginning to think it was never enough.

Accomplishments are the only thing that satisfy you.

And even they fade away like fireworks in the sky; you blink and all your efforts are gone.

And no one was there to see them.

You lash yourself.

You lash yourself for everything you hate and is you, and eventually even the things that you thought were worth admiring become untolerable.

Whoever says that shyness is a good quality is either a liar or a brainwasher.

Whoever they are, they haven't felt the beating you have in your chest.

Depression is the enemy.

Depression is nutrition.

Then you're shot.

You wore a bulletproof vest, how did it happen?

This was no bullet.

It was a laser, a bright light that seemed to infiltrate all of you, and didn't stop there.

It began to change you.

You lose your focus, you dwell in memories, draw in the ground and write in your hand.

You act, speak, care.

Someone cares for you.

But they're not who you chose.

And then you lash yourself again.

Evil comes out of your mouth.

You deceive and attempt to break free.

But the pressure grows.

It's cold and everyone around you is frightened.

You stay calm and caress what you see.

But no one is there to caress me.

I forfeit, let it pour and fall on my knees

with closed eyes give in to my low self-esteem.