Cursed

In fear of not hurting anyone, I suffer the most in my life. All those who have come, have gone on their time; and here I'm and my poetry trying to survive. After all the day's desires and dilemmas when I find mine, I hear a sob asking, "is that all you deserve?" a dysphoric counters me each time. Like a speechless victim of trauma, I try to find the answer on the wall gazing for a long long time. that even eternity forgets to be immortal and I forget to feel sublime.