You say that you miss my wisdom, but my wisdom (if I can call it such) is telling me one thing. I am scared. Very scared and very sad. I no longer know which direction to take so I sit and stare at nothing.
Any better options out there?
And I still pick at scabs
and my mind won't let me rest
and I cannot take one deep clear breath.
My only wish is not death. In the past it would have been death, but it is not anymore.
Now I pray for rain.
It will come like a gift from the heavens and wash away every moment, good and bad.
It will free me.
I will melt like sugar, become smudged like a watercolour picture and hide in the reflections of the wet pavement. Slip away like a dream. Not exist anymore.
That would be so nice.
Everything would take care of itself afterwards.
Why am I here if there is no place for me?
Why am I here if this reality disagrees with me?
For just how longer will I be able to carve a breathing space in the rock with my nails?
Why should life be nothing but struggle?
I have no answers.
I have nothing.
I am, in reality, nothing.
A dream that strayed.
Please let me leave.
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