How Sad

I live the type of life

where my back stays ripe for a knife—

like I leave myself open,

hoping I’ll only receive

what I give.

But alas,

I get backstabbed.

My capacity for blind love

is by far my biggest weakness.

I only seen him

for the potential he had,

instead of the capabilities

he lacks.

Beyond the facade,

I swore there was a masterpiece—

a god

I wanted to set free.

A silenced soul,

playing a role,

setting life goals

based on

whatever trends today.

But I cannot release

what is willingly caged.

I see him there,

in all his glory—

choosing the cell

over the key,

eyes open

but fast asleep.