At what point did my life become a means to an end?
Have I ever been here for the majority of my life?
I have pursued but at the same time, I have felt like a person who was being pursued.
Chased down by life itself.
Running as if everything would crumble in on itself if I were not on high alert at every given moment.
There are invisible chains on my body, weighing me down reminding me why I can never truly be at peace.
At what point will I realize that the chains holding me down have always been nonexistent?
The weight will disappear once I feel my life is not a means to an end but a life to be lived and enjoyed.
In my heavy chest, there will one day be freedom.