years are made of moments
and moments made of glass
broken before realized
lost before they’ve passed
moments that control me
that sieze my mind and heart
if captured i would destroy them
but theyre gone before i start
so instead i hang here helpless
tugging at my strings
pretending i can be different
denying this thing
Is this me or is this something
that can be detatched and thrown away
is their truth to freedom
or is it something we just say