Random thought

uncertain but certain

Sometimes I wonder and I'd be lying if I said I was certain.

But the truth is there is still so much uncertainty and I don't know what I'm doing and who I'm doing it for.

Who are you, because I feel like I've created my own version of who you are and I feel as though I'm not entirely accurate in my assumption

You've been a part of my life for so long and that should warrant some type of feeling but it isn't there

Neither are you

You exist because I created you, but you live as if you have a mind of your own.

But in reality my mind is your home.

Don't ask who I write about because it's always been you

Subconsciously,

Unconsciously,

You

Times have changed and I don't think I want them to

You've always been there. Just not when I needed you, and everything that happened after that was an excuse

Now I no longer pick up my pen because of you.