this feeling inside me devours every inch of my brain
just picks at it until there is nothing left but scattered ashes
left is the remains of what was
absolutely nothing
gravity isn't the thing that weighs me down but it's the thing that keeps me standing upright
I guess that's the one good thing about living here on earth
you know, I have heard a saying "hell is other people", but in this case, hell is living with myself.
living with the idea that once was,
am I to blame myself for not receiving the energy I so wish to deserve
let alone, being enough to deserve anything
love is outer space
enough to view the twinkle in the stars at night
or the moon and all of its phases
it's enough to feel the warmth of the sun glistening on your skin
to embrace the clouds and the sunsets that exist so effortlessly beautiful
yet, far from me to even reach
to want something that is just in the tips of your fingertips but not enough to grasp onto it
fighting for a feeling to live a love that flows carelessly
if I should disappear, would I still exist in your mind?
at the end of the day, what's left to hold on to?