blinded blue teddy

Time has passed.

Have I become what I never wanted to be?

Is the me in me fading?

I can’t speak poetry

I can’t dream like I did

Is this growing up?

I hate it.

Why so straight, so sharp, so crisp

So unreal, unnatural

So much hate.

Waiting for the other to strike

Ammunition already ready

I’m so prepared

It’s sad.