I will be turning a new age soon, yet I still have old age problems, today, i spilt my emotions out to a stranger, someone who i shouldn't be spilling emotions out to, i'm afraid to admit that it's because i have no one else to talk to, I need to talk, I need to let out my emotions for the sole reason being that i feel them, i feel sadness and fear and anger and i need to tell someone, i could tell this outlet, these words that i write, but for some reason it doesn't feel the same, but i will do it because i seem to have no choice.
I am lonely, i practically live in my head now, i've built a life there, it's cosy, it's nice, it's controlled, it's great, but it's also fictional, and very different from the life i currently live, I think about what i have in this fictional life, and that is what i tell myself i need in my real one, but that's scary, imagine if i get that and i'm still so lonely, i think it's safer to blame my loneliness on my lack of fulfilment, because imagine i get what i believe is my hearts desire, and it still isn't enough, no, i can't have that, i like my fictional world, every once in a while i remember it's fictional and it makes me sad in real life, but that's not to say i don't like my real life, i think i'm glad it exists, but like any human, i want more.
Thank you for listening, i needed to talk.
YOU ARE READING
Until she was happy
PoetryHappiness is a privilege and i talk deep so this whole book is a possible trigger warning. Don't look at this as a way to find peace in your darkness, this doesn't offer that, look unto this as a way to hurt with someone else, and find peace in the...
