I was doomed by the narrative
Ok so yes I did write the book
The ink from my pen
Made the bars to my prison
Stuck in a cell
I'll never escape
The damage has already done
I know what you'll say
Actions have consequences
You should have known
The worst part is
I did know
Well I knew at least that I wasn't helping my cause
Weather or not effort would make a difference
Well I suppose I'll never know
I chose ignorance
Even if or when I pick up all the pieces
It'll never be whole
The narrative is going to stay doomed
Like an idiot I wrote it down in pen
Rookie mistake I know
But I snapped all my pencils in half in a fit of anger
Fixing the narrative would be to hard
So I'll try to accept it
The bridges are burned
I have no intention of rebuilding them
My body is moderately broken
I'll go to hell hell before I fix it
My mind is shattered in pieces
I will try to fix that
Well maybe not fix
Like the broken glass that makes a mosaic
Broken but made into something new
My narrative may be doomed
But this story may still be good
