So little time afforded.
Life lost to necessities and chaos.
Pulled to shreds by people, places, and things.
What is left for us?

What of ourselves do we get to keep?
What do we give away?
What parts of ourselves do we sell?
For how much?

Do you even know who you are anymore?
Are you who I think you are?
Are you who you want to be?
There are parts of me I left to rot in your hands that I'd like to have back.

Hoping the answers I get are wrong.
Hoping those voices from the dark recesses of my mind are wrong.
To all these questions.
I'm just so tired of asking.