I wish I wasn’t me. years ago when my sister passed, I wished it was me. young and ignorant to the ways of the world. young yet already wishing to be dead. I wonder if wanting these thoughts to escape my head is selfish.. If I believe ‘everything happens for a reason’, then there has to be a reason. but the truth is I really don’t know what I believe in. if I were to die I don’t know if my soul would Sink or Swim even though I can’t Swim and with the world on my shoulders I’m liable to Sink.
Uncomfortable. Always moving, always trying to find the perfect place. My Utopia.. Does that that make sense? Does it exist in somewhere other than my head? Is there a world out there where I don’t end up dead? A reality where these thoughts don’t eat away at me like moths at cloths. I have ten years worth of holes in me. Everything I hold in just eats away at me and I let it.
My Utopia. What would it be like? Dark because that’s where I prefer to be and quiet because silence never hurt anybody. it never hurt me. a place for me is a place where I don’t have to hide. my thoughts my feelings my pain. a place where there’s always an ear to truly listen. One that understands without me needing to explain. If only there was a way I could talk without my words being swatted down like flies. I want to not feel alone for once. I want to be alone and not feel alone. I want to be okay with my own presence. My own company. I want My Candle of Loneliness to be put out before I am engulfed in the flames. My Utopia is a place, a place with no pain.