I wake up and find out that the life I thought I had is slipping through my fingers.
I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t see me. My son tells me what is wrong with your eyes? He is three.
Where is my silent mantra? Where is my magical oxygen?
Like a broken record, or a bad movie that always has a sequel…
I am just a
Thought with echo
I ask myself. Are you coming back? Are you already here?
I can’t be. You left me, remember? You almost promised not to show up again…
Why is it always payback time? Didn’t you take enough through out the years?
I have nothing more to give or to give up. I surrendered everything. You took it all away.
I am hesitant again…
I am dizzy again…
I am in bed again…
One of us has to leave and it cannot be me. I told you this before. I cannot go, it has to be you.
These cycles are endless. They tell you there is light at the end of the tunnel. Sure thing. Can’t argue with that. But they fail to mention that there is another bloody tunnel right after the light.