Holding onto a rope
At towering heights
It's not the feeling of wanting to let go,
But the feeling of not knowing
what I have to hold on for?
Does anything matter?
What a scary question to ask.
I hope that things matter.
I truly do.
But I am doubtful
Because,
Why do I try so hard?
Why do I fill my time with the things that I do,
Like it means something?
Does it really mean anything?
Or am I just investing in stock that I will never make a profit off of?
Sometimes it feels that way.
Swallowing my own saliva, pretending it's alcohol
Alcohol
I can't get the real stuff
I'm underage
I want it though.
I know how it feels
To be drunk.
Slow.
Butterflies.
Everything is funny.
Unstoppable.
Fears vanish.
But I'm sober
So sober
And that is how I have to face this world,
With nothing to subsidize the pain.
It is the uncertainty
whether or not I have a reason
to hold on,
That keeps me from letting go
I keep climbing up the rope
I don't know what lies at the top,
Neither do most people
Which is why they have passions,
which they place at the top
To give their lives a purpose
To give their lives meaning.
I want my life to be worth it.
Some may call this hope,
the fact that I keep climbing, without knowing
but I call it avoiding regret
