It’s been a long time since I touched pen to paper,
Lost in the rhythm of endless, mediocre days,
Each tomorrow arriving void of hope or wish,
A quiet drift through time’s indifferent haze.

I have known joy, but never at its peak,
Felt sorrow, yet never plunged into the abyss.
I have wondered what I’ve missed,
Haunted by scars left by malice and neglect,
Each mark a whisper of what once was.

Chasing highs, avoiding lows,
I ran so far ahead, I left myself behind.
Did I do so unknowingly, or what I thought of my worth that led my steps astray?
I sought love in fleeting moments,
Connection in safety, sameness, the unknown—
A restless wanderer grasping at ghosts.

Trapped in the solitude of my own mind,
I called it freedom, mistook it for strength,
Blissfully unaware of how unhappy I was—
A prisoner who had long forgotten the cage.