Love,Yourself dark stories

lama I'd like to share my random thoughts
Autoplay OFF   •   8 months ago
a letter to myself


Dear Adam

Where are you?

You seem lost, not knowing what to do, seeking understanding from people who speak a different language, using the stars of your life as a compass but they don't connect,

charging head-on in whichever direction they choose, never sure if this is the right move, "what if I can't come back from this? what if this is the end?

" those thoughts keep haunting me, taunting me, strangling me, pinning me down, and choking me out, the sun's about to be out any moment, unveiling the truth, while the other stars are fading...

Where have you been?

I miss those times we were having fun together, you used to smile and laugh all the time, do you know how many times that I've cried for you, prayed for you to come back,

sitting on my bed writing dead poems to my grim reaper, a faint smile helps me stay alive and keeps me going through the day, dead eyes looking around but not seeing anything,

lifting my arms slowly, feeling my surroundings trying to guard myself against the unknown, fighting against the consequences of my life choices, those same thoughts are back,

I can see your thoughts circling my head, whispering in my ears words that have lost meaning to me, rhymes with no rhythm, a song with no feeling, a heart that doesn't beat...

How are you doing?

you look sick, you look around for answers that don't exist, you look up your symptoms online, stuck in the web, looking through other people's threads, self-esteem hanging by a strand,

I keep walking a tight rope, tied around my arm, as I take another shot, I found the medicine that I needed, a virtual window between me and the outside world,

a piece of glass protecting me from my biggest fears...

what are you doing?

Bending down collecting the shattered glass, you go to open up your closet and let everything out, it feels great to take all that load off of your chest and put it to this gun,

so you put the cold steel to your exhausted head, writing your own eulogy, the end of your autobiography, you smile as you realize that this is the last shot you'll ever take,

it's ironic how this is the first time you felt alive while having your name written on this grave, the one that I keep coming back to everyday...

I should probably move on, but I'm still hoping to see you back pretty soon ...

Love, yourself.

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