westid

it’s been such a long time since i knowingly let myself become that other person. went here there and everywhere, pacing up and down. frustrated thunder. telling myself not this time, i’m not going in deep. then i think to this moment, get to see what it looks like since that moment. it’s a totally different person, i can rightly attest, looking back. even though i am what i was, it was me / still it, then i’ll have a little laugh about it – it never dawned on me that i could have been in deep already, but i was, so i am

i still don’t recognise the person in the mirror looking back at me. jetsam in the ocean i am adrift in the middle of what i am and what this person who was robbed of everything they were supposed to be. there’s probably no way back there this time, and i’m not going to keep my head over as it sends me under. it would take one person one day to just put me under and give at least a little bit of something like what i need back to me, just something to work with and not be expected to over come this life changing fade away from the shallow pool that laps around the ankles and invites you to the jacuzzi

if it were anyone else, i don’t wanna know. just tell me who can give me what i need, and i wish that could be as chapter 1 as well, where your chain of thought would link up with naturally

right everyone pens down, time’s up. leave it on the desk and go out in single file.

this is one file i’ll always regret. soul destroying way that my feelings have been let. if somehow i do break free from here, it would be the second chance i need and will never forget

in a number of ways i’m dead already. i don’t need absolution, just something that looks like closure. something i can look at everytime i notice myself, that actually feels like i’m not stuck where i am and you can see that i’m genuinely any closer