My life kept shattering like glass beneath my feet, I felt numb like the world around me was destroying my already ruined life and I could do nothing about it. I remember going home everyday with the wind carring my sorrow as it felt like it understood me, I wasn't asking for a fresh start I just missed the reputation I wish I could've gotten, the love that no one had given me. I wanted to take my last breath, drink my last drink, read my last book, replay my favorite song to a never ending sleep. I wanted it all do go away and nothing to be following me in its path.
Walking home as the golden brown leaves came closer to the earth due to the gravitational force that no one could stop. I wanted to be hidden from the world as a bear would do in hibernation. This depression was getting to me and I felt that no matter what I did, who I talked to, or what I could say wouldn't make a difference to the fire in my heart that could never be brought out. I'd longed for happy human attention but had never gotten any.
Why keep doing this?
What's the point of my life anymore?
I was falling into a pit of despair with no where to hide, no where to vanish in the darkness.
I'd been captured.
By my own thoughts.
I needed to clear my mind in order to think about this better, and not to do anything hasty. I decided to write in my notebook. It usually helps my miniture life panic attacks and in the future it could have some benifit if I were to see a pscologyst or something. I stared at the blank page intently as to think of something that would summerize my thoughts at this very moment. I sat on my bed trying to understand what would be intresting enough to write about.
A poem could fix my mind I suppose. Although there are many types of poetry I decided a Haiku would be the simpliest choice in mind. It's a simple 5-7-5 format of syllables and it would hopefully relive my stress at the moment. I start writing the first thoughts that came to mind and somehow it all made sense for the poem on paper.
'The wind spins my soul, off mountains and bridges, tonight is my end.'
I titled the poem, 'My loneliest moment' and began replaying some memories still running in my head.
Sitting on my bed gave me a recurrence of thought. Of when he was here, he changed me in to many ways...why? I took the high road and chose the safest path on life to start at this university but nothing will ever be the same because I can't stop thinking, 'what if?' but 'ifs' don't help so my memories will be forever kept to me and won't be shared to the horrendous outside world. I chose this life so no matter how much I dwell on the fact of my idiocy I'll never be able to change that. The hard reality is, I'm here now so might as well just forget about what happened.
