Ugly spirited, I no longer shine bright.
We only connect if the emotions run high.
I fend for myself on the everyday otherwise.
Can anyone truly love me when it’s slow going?
If the concrete keeps on pouring then how can the rose grow?

I know this troubled mind is my biggest curse. 
It was only a gift if I didn’t get lost in the hurt.
Backpedaling to my worst.
There’s no one to co author any happier words.
Sitting still no longer heals the scars. I don’t think anything works.
I’m ugly in more ways than one.