I remember telling myself
that if my life ever got empty, that I’d look for something
That I’d know what to do
That it would be me and you,
that everything would be ok.
(what a fool)
But now
I’m stuck in my own mind, looking for the lock of the door
to forbid my own self-destruction from happening.
My own desires fading, my will to be evading.
And here I am, too scared to move anywhere.
Too tired to go offshore.
Deeply drowning in sorrow,
forgetting, slowly, who am I.
Who am I?
What I like?
What I want to be?
What I want to do?
It all just feels like unanswered questions this time.
And I don’t even have the energy
to rhyme…