Livng mistakes

When there’s too many mistakes to start again
Piling up in a heap of misery
You know it’s time to cut your loses and run.
Running isn’t the answer
But it’s a relief.
A brief time of clarity.
A heaving panting breath of sincerity.
One more move it is all it takes and it all goes crumbling down,
Down to a pit of deep decay.
Happiness left in a shiver, a shudder, a splinter of a second.
Mistakes are depression,
Depression a way of living.
Mistakes are human
Humanity collapsing,
Moralistic naivety fills the air.
But it is youth!
How are we beings meant to reach perfection?
Loosing control isn’t a question.
Beauty is just an image, a deception.
Youth a fleeting, transient wave a wind a breath of freshness.
Youth is a curse because it is drawn clinging to anything that equals living.
Here is where the mistakes begin.
Living.