I would rather die now,
knowing that I tried, than
live a hundred years,
never having failed,
the only reason for that
being that I had done
nothing.
If there really is something more,
more than this,
then hit me.
I want to feel something.
I want to know for sure
that I am alive.
The words you said to me
will drive me mad.
I hear them,
over and over
in my head,
and will continue to,
until I understand,
or turn insane.
But wait.
Who is to say that those in insane asylums
are the crazy ones?
Nothing proves we are sane, just because
we aren’t like them.
It’s possible that they are there
because they choose to be, they are
so far ahead with their thinking that
they choose to let us believe
we are better than them.
I know it has been months,
but still it’s too hard.
I long so much just to
hold on to that feeling.
That feeling of what we never were,
but could have been.
If you gave it a chance.
That’s all it needed.
One chance.
But you were too afraid,
and I was as well.
I still am.
I wish I could forget you,
what we were meant to be.
I wish I could forget you,
like I’ve forgotten me.
