My thoughts crash like waves.
Waves crashing against the sharpest, jagged rocks.
Jagged rocks underneath a seemingly neverending cliff.
The same cliff I have envisioned myself lunging off of countless times.
In this way I crash, hoping to never find myself again.

I miss the magic of feeling alive.
When I was not here to just survive.
Under my skin, my blood was thrumming.
I could do anything, everything was of my imagining.
With adulthood came the realization that I was a contrived being.
I was never really seeing.