p is pronounced like pay in dutch

of what I once was, was I once?

I carry my sluggish body through the trenches of what once was, now long gone. The sight of what a girl I once was or could have been vanishing and I, don't remember anymore the days I smiled and I meant it. Thus only now I realise maybe I'd always just dreamt it, that girl that once was and was supposed to be. I've grown not fond but tolerating of the weeds that took over and I, don't remember anymore the garden once well kept or the vision I might've had of her beauty - her grace. Long gone has the hope for a better day and yet, I still find myself clinging onto it. Desperation to be someone else or possibly just not be myself, desperation to not lose myself to this - the escapism. The words that cling onto me and even if I'd let go I can't, escape. As I find myself resorting to whatever means it takes and there I stand looking back at what never will be. Maybe what never could have been, a truth one should not be willing to accept yet here I lay defeat evident in my once-shone-so-bright eyes. The walls cave in as I am, yet to give in. I scramble trying to collect the pieces and yet I don't know why, as I find myself in chaos unable, or incapable, of mending what was once stood there, of finishing the art piece of what was supposed to once be. I find myself envisioning a world where I once existed and my mind stares back at me, blankly.

A/N not quite a poem in my opinion. Thought it written poetically enough to share here, enjoy the treat.