conflicted

we all have made the choices of life
business
but the situations i speak of shall be known as them.
the decisons your mind reacts to but you heart/chest feel somthing different.
its the spliting choices that defy who we are at the time. sometiems we become patternized and always stitch the same way but others its a seesaw, going back and forth, always unpredicatable, because hell we are all human, hopefully adn our choices are half chance.
so if ur indesisive like me, grab a coin and lets be like harvey and flip at every cross, at every move, wiht the metal reflecting our life wiht unpredicatability.
your brain as logical as it appears becoems mixed and conflicted then the feelign inside your chest somewhere has thae instinct but u never know when to listen to them, both. its confusing as trig, and as simple as 1,2,3 for you know what to do, but society ahs conditioned us to reflect and with its pressure we all want to live up to it and be closer to the top, so thats when our gut turns to mush and mute, and our brains take over with tactical swat like manuevers, twisitng and gutting the business of society from the inside out jsut to get to the top and never lookign back fore to look back would to mean to unlock the door to your chest adn unleash what you ahve ran from, from what you have hiddena dn buried like the corpse but wiht isnt 6ft under, its as deep as you can get it, you bury it wiht all your force, you stand waist deep in it but you keep on loading it up and makign the stack higher so tis voice will never emerge until tis too late, the door burst off its hinges, it unleashes the forse that been cramped for far too long. the heap gets unravled adn thrown all about and this mess it not one you can hire a maid for.
the truth will stay hidden but it will emerge whetehr or not its too alte to save you but itll help by giving you 2 feathers and if u save ruself then you can build yourself a nice set of wings to fly free from whatever thsi is and hopefull perch yourself on the top, victorious and happy that you ahve washed up. so bid the old you goodbye as its dragged back into the corners of darkness.