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By ChildQueenFree Date: 2001 Nov 07 Comment on this Work [[2001.11.07.21.28.10144]] |
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Sitting in the middle of the floor thinking-just realizing that I will only ever be basically happy never extremely happy. I never meant anything to you only just realized that also. I used to write that realization breaks into fear, then into tears now I don't even know my own words. With everything I know I am still confused. I want to be loved and to love -freely. But even that simple thought becomes distorted with time, age, and actions. I feel the need to be understood by one human being but understanding is an illusion something that doesn't happen doesn't exist. I'm an insignificant person never meant to feel the strength of arms encircling me. I feel as if this a play I go to see every night with the same actors and only witnessing a few discrepancies. Sometimes it is comforting to think of things I've done. I suppose I'm lying; I never think of them only the things I'll never do the feelings I'll never feel. I'm a useless, usable, throw away when you're finished kind of person. Never going anyplace not even going backwards either sort of silently marching on in one place one tiny, square piece of life. The only thing I'll accomplish is my death and I can't count that as an achievement. You want to tell me I'm special -don't kid the world we already know the truth we already know the lies and the outcome. An endless play; never getting reviews An endless cycle; never deviating slightly. Maybe it will stop on a whim, but not mine A letter to and from a lost soul... |