To what end can I find something that is solely mine? To what end can I know, that something is only for show? To what end can I see, this broken heart of mine mend? But I speak to much of this end. I am more than space and time, I could be someone’s lifeline. Something not so simple when I think of the way that I could relate to someone I love. Something not so trivial when I think of those I’ve affected. It’s something that I’ve never considered, these words that I’ve whispered, hoping that someone could hear. Hoping that my day would finally come near.
I never knew that things could be so complicated, so awful, so real. But I also never knew things could be so raw, so new, so real. I wake at night wondering what I can do better, what I can do differently. Perhaps there is only so much I can do with the skills I have at hand, but I would like to free those captured by their own land. Captured within their own minds. Nobody should ever be a slave to their own thoughts. Because I’ve known this before, I have a passion to help others, of this I make sure. Hoping that these words I write could be real and jump off this page, I hope that they could mean something in this day and age.
Whispering to my left, my right. Maybe I could come out of my comfort for a single moment. Find my way to something sustainable. Find my way to something real; something with a true feel.
And in these bitter daze, I walk through the snow in a lazy haze. Filled with something like spite, and armed with hunger and light. I find myself repetitive, but is that a bad thing? I would think that so long as I can keep myself working, it would be okay.
And I would be okay.