[12/May/2022 - 11:37PM]
I can't sleep, too scared.
Scared of the future, and of what I will see when the oldest person in my life is myself.
Around a death bed, or in a hospital, I am told that it's the end.
Will I be okay?
I'm dying.
I'm Fading.
I'm Disappearing.
And all I want to know is that I'm going to be okay.
That there will be something there.
That is won't juat be the end. That it couldn't be the end! I'm scared! I'M SCARED!!
I don't want to tell anyone but your a therapist and i hav ur email so i will rant and i will talk and speak and in the morning, i will send this to you.
I imagine myself surrounded by people. People who are my friends. People who are my family.
And yet, at the end of the day, how many will truly be there to pass down who I am?
YOU ARE READING
Abstraction
Non-Fiction[Started on: June 14, 2022] || Chapters Released: 0 This is an abstraction of real thoughts. My thoughts. Every time I feel harsh worry, dread, or fear, I will write; I will write right here. Those who want to read about another's poetry, go ah...
