rhythm

Oh, how we turn out to be the very thing we tried to get away from.

Continuing an unknown and silenced cycle. 

I look at you,

and you,

a prime example of who I don’t want to be.

Is it selfish that I want to be better?

Hard-earned money that I own.

My pride I worked for.

I broke it.

I disrupted the rhythm.

I made a melody more suitable for myself.

I no longer beat to a battered drum.