Cuz' you're not frightened
the way I've been so
So I'll follow you"
The sickening optimist in me wont let me just sit. It seems I cant ever be alone, even when i'm alone.
I hate being in such a foul mood. Why? Who would know, but one might think I could understand my own dimensions. Never. Always.
I have two homes that i'm never home in. I cant ever wait to get on the highway. To sit in my truck, to know i'm nowhere but I know where I am.
I sometimes feel like the direction my life takes will always be a split path. Pulling myself in two will never get old. But i'm so tired of it. When will I be happy with just what I have? Will I ever be comfortable with what I'm doing? I use to tell myself that I was doing it for me, but which one?
I doubt I'll ever get over this wound I made in myself. I'll walk this world with blood on my hands, and rejoice when it never clots and scabs and heals. I'll always wear my heart on my sleeve, I deserve this.. repent, repent, repeat.
Sometimes it feels like im getting closer. Like I have something tangible to be, and somebody in my life I can let go and love. I always will doubt it, all. Im so scared to release myself from this hell that has trapped me for so long. I suppose its the familiarity of the struggle and constant suffocation I feel. I cant remember what its like to breathe and not feel guilty.
I'll never be good enough, just for me.
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