Gilled Soul

I was so used to, for years, living
In pure chaos
Brought on by the inner workings of my own doings
And now I’m too mellow to even write about soft things

My environment has slowed down
To a workable place
Pace, I’m not uses to a unique space
To call my own somewhere other than my head

My home has been planted amongst other’s for so long and some still have the softest parts of me
Others may feel like they are standing still in rough waters

But not I, I am like a fish under ice
Frozen layers, chipped away to reveal
Such soft slippery skin
Scales to look
Gills to touch
And a pure soul

That’s the thing with always moving
You try to change but youve become one with destruction
Two beside your own


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