Every man's poison is his own blood, a bitter, twisted legacy.
Do you hate him more for passing it on or yourself for bearing it.
In your reflection, do you see his face, the monster that you fear becoming.
But dear, hear me, you're not him, you never will be.
You're standing on the edge of a mirror, screaming at your own image.
But you're not broken beyond repair, you're broken with potential.
Every yell, every shouted word, it's not your inheritance, it's your choice.
Don't become what broke you, become who you want to be.
Don't become your own destruction, become your own light.
Serenewrites
