Chapter 3: 3.
keeping myself low
in my view, I'm at the lowest
and the base profile i set for myself
I couldn't ever see through,
the clouds that mummified
the existence within me.
I sense no worth in breathing
when every breathe I sip in
makes the things topsy-turvy,
blurry and blackening.
whom am I to spit upon?
when every nerves stammers
just for single word to protrude
and make its life outside.
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