Tired…
What is this?, I am moving but not on the move
I’m crying without tearing up and I'm screaming so loud, but no words are leaving my mouth, I am broken but my pieces are hidden in the fabric of my skin
It’s like I’m in a gilded cage with the things I thought I wanted,
Those same things are the cause of my hurt.
Even now I don’t know what I want.
If I would rather stick to the pain or venture into the unknown
… the unknown,
Even this feels like the worst sort of familiar unfamiliarity. I can’t get out. And I can’t stay in. The worst sort of my dilemmas ought to be indecisiveness.
Or is it?
I am grateful for coming this far, but it doesn’t feel closer to what I envisioned.
It looks like a lot from here.
Illusion maybe, but my gilded cage feels smaller.
I want freedom, but I’m scared of a free fall
I’m spiraling anyway, too tired to gear the speed of my fall.
A plushie cushioned land is what I hope,
If At all this fall ends.
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