I'll never be satisfied. How many smiles won't be genuine. You knew, didn't you?
How I'll never get over them. How, in the end, my life is theirs. My end won't be my own. You knew and you let me have it, a life I deserved.
I've had all I ever wanted. I've learned to want to care. I've learned how it feels to be embraced. Comforted.
But I touch the sky and I can't feel a thing. I reach and reach but nothing burns me.
I can't go back to how I was before. I can't become what they want of me. And I can't complete you because I'm not another half. I truly am nothing.
Would you ever go and feel the ground? You should try it sometime. ha ha... makes you feel... "grounded", te ha ha.
Do you ever look at the stars? The sky is vast. Sometimes staring into space makes one feel so insignificant. But I don't feel that.
I don't feel belittled. I don't feel worthless. I just feel... like that is all a part of me. The emptiness, the darkness. It's my home. I don't get scared, I feel... safe. Warm. I feel like I'm right where I'm supposed to be, facing what's the only thing that'll take me in unconditionally. Even if I fuck up a billion times, hate or love. Die or live. Inhale or exhale. Run or stand still. Jump or lay down. It's there for me, constantly. If the Earthh were to shatter, the galaxies would be there. The vacuum. The nothingness. The soundless. The odorless. Like me, it's like me. It IS the real me. It'll never leave, like how I'll never be what is asked of me. I'll only ever be what I was meant to be.
That's great, honestly.