Personal Underworld

A pixel vent - A pixel poetry

Clear feeling, or abstract
Making art, as it sees the truth

Drawing over a previous layer
Then drawing over that to get closer

There still remains pain
Broken trust
And the taste of public humiliation

That it was allowed to happen.

It boils and stirs

How were you only sorry when called out
But how you felt you were in the right

"I'm sorry 'if' you felt that directed at you"
It was directed at me.
I'm not sorry if you feel this is directed at you.

"I just thought I was doing the right thing"
Whatever.

The people around you will let you be like that.

L'enfer, c'est les autres