We all leave things behind
Whether it's a handprint on a window.
The memory of a kiss on one's lips.
Or a memory.
Everyone's always around whether they're there or they're not.
They've left their handprint on me, on my heart and it will not fade away as easily as a mark on my window.
I hope it gets blown away by the wind.
Off the surface of earth itself.
Only a mere memory that will fade over time
And when I think it's gone, it reappears.
Colliding with me like a thousand volts of electricity.
There's nothing I can do to stop it.
I must let it course through me.
Touch every inch of my skin, glide every crevasse, fill every hole.
Till I can no longer speak.
Till it's pulling at my vocal cords preventing me from screaming.
Screaming everything I feel inside.
From the anger, to the sadness, to the loneliness.
I hear only gasps of air escape me.
Hoping that I am only swimming on a warm summer day and that I'll make it to the surface to take that long awaiting breath of air.
But I can't.
Because instead of swimming up, I am only getting pulled down.
Like a puppet being controlled by its master.
Only one can control the strings.
After a while, I look up towards the new hope awaiting me and wonder;
"Is it all worth it?"
"Will I end up in the same place?"
The same dark lonely hole that I've landed myself in?
They tell you there's so much to look forward to.
And I wonder for a second if it might be true.
But then I remember, I will never be in control of my fate.
Because I am a mere puppet attached to strings waiting for the show called Life to start.
