In my dreams I see what it means to live an existence foreign to me. I know not why I do, only the what. It scares me. Because I wake up and it feels the same. Neither my subconscious nor my true life are lucid. Nothing is in my control and I am drowning in a pool of overwhelming purple skies with embered stars scattered throughout. They sizzle to the touch. Maybe I wasn’t meant to burn bright. My flame of passion is a burnt out wick of a blue candle with the aroma of disappointment. It’s scent lingers in my nostrils like a gas stations fumes. But at least those fumes can ignite. So I bravely close my eyes now to rest in the restlessness of constant worry. Will I ever he good enough for him? Will he even consider me worthy? These answers I do not know and therefore I proceed to live an existence not my own. Living in anticipation of an event that may never come. Preparing for someone who could easily pass me by. My burden is to live in reaction of them because I am the black pawn on the board. You make the first move. Until theny he forecast is purple skies with embered stars.
Like how is it possible to be so pissed off and so sad at the same time???!!!
I divorced my dreams and married my depression instead.