I have a friend
We do everything together; “joined at the hip“, as they say
I think the best way to describe him is as a therianthrope
Somedays I wake up and he’s a small mosquito, constantly buzzing in my ear
And somedays I wake up to him roaring like an angry, ferocious lion and there’s nothing else that I can hear
These are the days I am instilled with fear
Our friendship is toxic and abusive, rendering me a despondent captive
Bound by the shackles of his cold embrace
I’m in a constant daze
My mind is a clouded haze; a maze.
Tired of running in circles
I have no doubt,
there’s no way out.
Sometimes I wish I was a bird
Fierce and free to fly away whenever I want
wherever I want
Not be bothered by life’s trivialities
Free from sin
Not burdened by the sterile search for redemption
Weightlessly gliding through the clouds
Sometimes I wish I was a bird because I wouldn’t be me then.
I think I’m done
Can’t fly with broken wings
Can’t dance when I can’t hear the music
Can’t help but sink when my lungs are full of water
Can’t laugh when I can’t hear the joke
Can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel because it isn’t there
Growing darkness continues to ensnare me
So terrifying. So paralyzing
Yet so soothing
I think I’m done.
I think I’m done.
Bring out the gun and send me to the One.
It’s hard to tell
If I have thick skin
If I’ve been burnt to the third degree with no viable nerve endings left.
It’s hard to tell why everything around me seems like it’s happening in a parallel universe.
It’s hard to tell why I can’t seem to escape this labyrinth inside my mind.
It’s hard to tell why my world continues to get blindingly darker.
It’s hard to tell why there’s no explanation for any of it.
Trying to escape the weight of this anchor has exhausted me
It continues to drown me deeper beneath its weight
Futile attempts to circumvent and swim back up have now transformed into looming hope for this descent to come to an end
But it continues to relentlessly drag me down at terminal velocity, deeper into this abyss
Maybe my destination-less journey would be hastened if a kind soul aboard the vessel would just cut the rope, granting both of us freedom
I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment
I’m sorry I failed you
I’m sorry that I went left every time you wanted me to go right
I’m sorry that I kept trying to speak to you in a language you didn’t understand
I’m sorry that the only way I could find myself was by losing my way
I’m sorry that you feel my life is nothing but a cascade of wrong decisions
I’m sorry that my unrefined, rough edges broke the mould you tried so hard to fit me into
But most of all,
I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart, that I’m really not sorry at all.
A raindrop fell into the ocean and got lost.
Impossible for it to escape and become a whole raindrop once again.
Would the ocean really be any different without this tiny raindrop, though?