CAVE DWELLER : THE LATE BLOOMER

I’ve been lost in shadows for so long no longer can I tell whats right or wrong. I was born in a pitch black hole where demons and gods debated on the nature of my soul. But I don’t think I have one, maybe it was sold. I think, sometimes I feel that it was stolen because I never feel whole, there’s always something missing and all this talk of what makes you happy is getting real old. Because to be honest… I don’t know.

I am something horrible. Indeterminably sad, yeah I’ve seen some rough shit but its never been too bad. I just can’t shake this horrible feeling creeping in my chest crushing every emotion until I am completely compressed.

 To them I am nothing but wasted potential. I can never seem to do right, and even when I do its not me who gets to enjoy the rites.

 All I get are these sleepless nights where not even my pillow can make me feel like I’ve got something by my side. A terrible discomfort that questions my reasons for being alive.

I am a late bloomer, that means its hard for me to survive. Cause culture and women always decide to leave me behind. And gaining their approval just fucks with my mind.

If only you could see what I see in my eyes, then you’d understand why I throw away my pride. I’m just a cave dweller trying my best to hide