Does It, Who's It?

Does it feel, does it know, does it sense, does it change. one, a two. maybe three. chances, upon seizure caved inward. life, unprecedented. by love, perhaps just as freshly crowned.

cower, search withdal, find, but it'll not appear. because right before you, it lies. an antidote to your pain. shielded by surreality, hidden by false pretenses. once bitten twice shy. not this, it'll never die. given hope, creation of belief's in oneself; far from attainment, further in terms of achievements. maybe time will tell. maybe time will toil. chains will lengthen, ball bearings would cling heavier. metal will cringe as grimaces mark their permanence as a life changes its stance. leaving behind a scarred and painful mould for the next to fit. fitting into the crevices as last imprinted. adaptation to one through the exterior and superficiality. sheer facial value stings less harshly than a word and heart of truth. a brimming cup of love, an exodus and permeation into the very core of thyself. what stands between, one only dislikes. it comes the time to dispel its disgrace and distaste. so hinder its taking to such heterodox. take heed, make deed, sow seeds rightfully deemed. 

because,

i don't wana be the one.