She is Chaos

Excuse the self-reflection expressions I dwell on myself to others. The pain I am giving off known as a prime factor in my life like the joy in yours. So little reasons to be happy. Many more issues not to care. Helping others live to their expectations result to putting mine on hold. Dreams come and go so does a distant reality. Chaos is my lover. Not the person creating it. Being drawn to its everlasting hold surrounding my fondest memory. I try to do better for me, but it always reminds me of the nerving feeling of nothing possessing me to its demonic presence. Twenty-five days to mold into a new, twenty years to make a life. The fulfilling rush of endless possibilities leave the butterflies within me. Never forgetting the fear that put me here. In this very position the road I have followed graciously upon. I can’t tell you my every move because it’s no one’s business. But I can tell you it is for the better in my life and the others guiding me through the endless possibilities that are known in my very existence called life.