I wanted to run away
From broken dreams,
Distressing memories,
And their late night screams.
But life had other plans.
I wanted to break away
From the burden I carry
From the shackles that bind me.
And be truly free.
But life had other plans.
I wanted to rebuild,
Bit by bit,
A life of my own.
And liberate my spirit.
But life . . .
I wanted to hide
All my scars
Heal my bruises
With dust from stars.
But life . . .
I wanted to rise,
High above,
Beyond their grasp
And find true love.
But life . . .
I wanted to escape
The throes of misery
Discard my bitterness
And end the agony.
But life . . .
I wanted to breathe
Without the fiendish troubles
Choking me; Watching
My life crumble.
But life . . .
I had dreams. Big dreams.
But now, they're burning,
In flames of apathy,
Incinerating my yearning.
I tell myself
That this is a test.
I repeat to myself,
'Everything happens for the best.'
But for how long?
And at what cost?
Life has already taken away
Everything that could be lost.
A childhood.
A smile. A hug.
Empathy. Hope.
This pain is now my drug.
My shadow gives the illusion
That I am alive.
But I slip away.
I will not survive.
And now I find myself
Struggling. Suffocating.
The spark of life ebbing.
I watch myself dying.