He has always felt a little bit special
Humble, albeit terrifically aware of these particular opportunities given to him – deliciously intricate for their worth alone
Felt it in his every single bone, heartbreakingly cordoned off, nonetheless
Agonisingly so, when OCD came and tamed his every known innermost ability – when the pain within scintillates ’til crucifying your damn near everything
Left with but an imagination, a final weapon to distance the flames
Preposterously caged, against a will that shall not quit, however distasteful and remiss these brutal bouts of frustration
He has to try and prove his worth all over again, to them and not just him
Perhaps to take the deepest breath he can possibly imagine and to place it all up to his new best-friend fate
It’s a longshot but something he could finally be proud of
He may have lost the thousandth battle but he just needs to win the war

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