My Good Traits

I don't feel like there is a point in being a certain way.

My aim was be one of the very best person, once upon a time.

The resolve of a lion, to not falter from any pain.

To bring justice into the world, was my fate.

Now I sit back, heart frozen in the prime of my life.

I murmur, is there even a point in being good?

It gives me a sense of righteousness and superiority.

But the taste of pleasure....

Oh, this pleasure.

This pleasure of being stimulated by adrenaline.

Food. Sights. Drugs. Sex. Harm.

My mind etched with fun youthful things.

No room for this righteousness.

I know that my thoughts are against my morals.

I know that.

So I walk away from people who encourage this.

Yet I watch them behind a monitor.

I do not see good in me.

A glimpse of goodness is blotched with malicious thoughts.

I am like a ball of rotting gas.

Eats away from the living and multiplies with the dead.

- - - - -

I think I shall enjoy my departure from everyone I know coming September.

No, I am not lonely.

Lies. Lonely I am.

But coping with it I shall.

Are my friends at fault?

In a way, yes. My friends could have made me feel more at home.

And no. I don't deserve a home.

Moments stay as moments, and I forget to appreciate.

I'm hurt, and tending my wounds come first.

Whether I take painkillers or not, time will tell.