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I fear that time will stop along with the dreams that keep me cozy in my time of anxiousness.

Like when winter is ending and spring is coming closer the days feel long, yet they don’t last as long as they feel.

If I were to look to my right I would see the posters that I look to for reassurance when my tears flow as easily as the blood that flows through my veins.

If I were to look my left I would see the books I read to distract myself from the yelling of my parents, who mostly fight because of money or because me.

I am trouble.

I am nothing, but a heavy burden that they have no idea how to get rid of.

My choices limit to leaving and never looking back which would also mean having nowhere to live other than the streets.

Or to die.

I have no plans and if I did I would have no idea how to figure out how to achieve these plans.

My life consists of finding a friend rather than being left by them when they realize I am a burden that is not worth the time nor effort to deal with.

My life consists of waking up from fantasies of being happy and free in a world made for someone who is most definitely cared about.

My life consists of trying to decide whether or not I should go home or stay an extra hour at my school.

My life consists of decisions that seem simple but truthfully are harder than you would think to look at them.

Each decision practically meaning life or death in their own way causing my life to be more difficult than most.

I look at a picture on the wall, staring at it, hoping desperately, that it would come alive and bring with it promises that would surely be delivered properly.

Like the packages delivered to a store that sold delicate dishes.

And if the man delivering these packages were to slip by accident then the dishes were to surely break.

I am a broken cup of nothing.

My shards sharp as knives yet still delicate as the clear wine glass I was once.

Like the wine that was once within me I am red and thick.
Full of anger towards no one at all.

I am desperate for attention doing anything for it.

I am sad and depressed for no particular reason.

I am tired yet I have a had full nights rest.

I am sick, but I have no true sickness.

I sit in my room alone for hours being ignored and hated because I am not the same.

Because I am a burden.

I close my eyes and dream of solid blue shining back at me with the same hope that I hold within my own.

I dream of waterfalls and salty crashing waves.

I dream of endless summer sunshine and snowy white winters.

I dream of lilies, roses, daisies, and tulips in all colors.

I dream of stars above me holding my entire attention.

I dream of libraries with more books than my imagination can think of.

I dream of endless walks on the side of a large mountain.

I dream of smiling with the true happiness I want more than I want money or beauty.

I dream many dreams before my eyes flutter open to see the same pea green walls.

I sit up and look to my right to see my posters that do not give me reassurance.

I look to my left to see books I do not want to read.

I am a burden even to myself.


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1295 notes / 5 years 2 months ago
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