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I feel wistful. Wistful of talents I do not have, and places I have not been. But then I remember, Time is limitless if I choose it to be. So many choices, decisions, prospects, endless opportunities. And while others experience, I flounder. In the inbetween state, tiptoes up to the edge but not daring to jump, not yet. Scared of what truth the idealised holds in store for me. I am to find m self in the embrace of a lover, skin to skin. Or in a high so high the sighs of my yesterdays are forgotten. Or am I to find myself always expecting, craving more. Craving I had choosen different choices, made different decisions, followed different prospects. All these endless opportunities, but here I stand afraid. Afraid to chance regret. Afraid to chance wasted time. Afraid to chance. Afraid.
0
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
Afraid
I feel wistful. Wistful of talents I do not have, and places I have not been. But then I remember, Time is limitless if I choose it to be. So many choices, decisions, prospects, endless opportunities. And while others experience, I flounder. In the inbetween state, tiptoes up to the edge but not daring to jump, not yet. Scared of what truth the idealised holds in store for me. I am to find m self in the embrace of a lover, skin to skin. Or in a high so high the sighs of my yesterdays are forgotten. Or am I to find myself always expecting, craving more. Craving I had choosen different choices, made different decisions, followed different prospects. All these endless opportunities, but here I stand afraid. Afraid to chance regret. Afraid to chance wasted time. Afraid to chance. Afraid.
caravella
Written by
English
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
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