I've always known what I wanted.
I felt like I had everything mapped out
and the only thing that could go wrong was that I wouldn't have enough time.
Well, time started to pass and the plan started to fade.

It would be erased and
a new idea came to mind,
only to be replaced
later in time by another.
Each one seeming
more surer than the last.

They all were never
as permanent as I hoped.
Only becoming temporary
because I couldn't make up my mind
and decide.
Time went by still
and even the thought
of the future began to fade.

It faded fast,
just like the others.

But it wasn't replaced.

The form of the "future" was taken over by emptiness
and unable to react,
I began accepting that there
was nothing for me anymore.

I couldn't find something
to be interested in.

I was lacking a muse,
motivation,
inspiration.

I shut everyone out;
afraid of losing the
people I was close to.

It became a struggle to
make it through a day.

It was harder to find
a reason to get out
of bed in the morning.

It felt like the emptiness
had come and consumed
what I had left,
if I had anything left at all.

There was no freedom,
a prisoner to my own problems.

The possiblity to end it all
hung over my head;
but I never took it,
frightened to be called weak,
afraid.

Society had made me an outcast,
getting comfort when I could
and simultaneously learning to
not rely on others.
Only I could be my own best friend.

Misunderstood
and perceived as happy,
I carried on the charade,
the reason unknown.

I couldn't be taken seriously
as I was always known
for being so carefree
and happy.

That fun-loving girl
was torn apart inside,
but she faked a smile,
lying to herself and
everyone else by pretending
it was okay.

This went on and yet
no inspiration for the future
could be found.
The time yet to come
was still a vast space of
jumbled dreams with no way
to unscramble them.