February 92

Born in February 92 25 and too much to pursue Sprung from winter I'm afraid Spring and summer kill the shade And the fall is falling short of what I paid When my world is full of love Angels throwing darts above Pierce and push me down a path I never claimed/found Since I've tried to find the self I've erupted into cells Need to find a frame to wrap my brain around I will dissociate From the worlds I create They fall short of all that you say So content to emulate Fear that I'll modulate Too far from myself But I'll play anyway