Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lost in a wander, conflicted with anxiousness. I walk in a black cube of my own fears that no matter what I do engulfs my life like air. Maloncholy to happiness I sit in this purplexed contradiction called existence and ponder the outcomes of the what if's and what-not's of my timeline, feeling as if I couldn't have really changed anything. Considering the circumstances of my own needing to be unhappy or to be alone in my own decisions. To potentially hex myself of this vector of morbid depression seems unachievable at times, I step away and see that it's me in an emotional blur with my head spinning and my rash justifications of who and why I am so stuck in a lose of love circular rotation.

— The End —