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Will Dec 2019
I'm alone again.

This happens a lot.

No one around...

...just me and my thoughts.

Life seems empty.

Moments seem grey.

My heartache worsens with each passing day.

****, film, music; imperfect distractions from this tragic reality.
Will Dec 2019
They tell me the war is won, that I was some kind of chosen one.
I do not feel like the victor.
There lies this inescapable feeling, a hollow ache inside.
The pills were tough, but I have felt worse.
Beams fired towards me as I lay beneath, as my heart gently beats.
I lost no hair.
I lost no weight.
My face and skin stay clear of grate.
Children, Elders, families, they all gambled with  surgeries fate.
What makes me different?
Why do I remain so free?
Why does this victory seem so empty to me?
That little girl who wheeled on by, why was she the failure compared to I?
My heart weighs with guilt for winning a war I did not even feel.
Every week.
Every day.
Every minute.
Why did it have to be me, crossing the lonely line back into reality?
It should have been Jeana, Stephan, Jamie...
It could have been anyone.
Anyone but me.
Will Aug 2019
Red and yellow, gliding through the sky.
Just a little biplane trying to find meaning in life.
Nowhere to land, since the Earth left so long ago.
Without a warning, no hesitation, Terra herself left the little airplanes show. High above what he once loved, flying through the blue sky.
Through gray stormy clouds, lightning and thunder, the plane flies all alone. Nothing under.
No touchdown connection.
No radio tower to call.
Just the empty sky.
Will Jul 2019
Wandering through a forest of misremembered memories.
Milk curdles in the sun's ceaseless heat.
Love fades away into a blood red sky.
My mind has been broken, like a tape being played until it was frayed.
Nirvana is a lie that hopeless souls cry for.
Reality and depression are the only forms of mental suppression I cannot deny.
There is something down in my heart that just will not die.
Like some form of misplaced nostalgia, my soul calls for her.
Will Jul 2019
Does any of it make sense?
The riddle of reality will never be realized.
Our human existence, summed up in three words .
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