Lost Pieces of Me

In a corner of a room that feels more like a prison than a home... I sit, shrouded by a thick fog of despair, too heavy to be shared. The air... is saturated with emotions that seem not of my own, as if planted by the countless voices dictating how I should live, what I should feel, and who I should be. I walk a path not of my choosing; each step echoing others' expectations, my desires drowned by their demands...

The reality I inhabit is cold, unwelcoming, stark against the warmth I yearn for—a warmth as distant as a forgotten memory. Lonely, my heart heavy with sorrow, I whisper to my deepest self, "I'm sorry, please forgive me," through tears blurring my vision, for losing pieces of myself, letting darkness consume who I am...

Empty, observing, I watch the last hope flicker and fade into overwhelming darkness. The emptiness inside is vast, a void where no light persists. Amidst despair, a fragile wish emerges—a wish to simply be, to let suppressed tears fall, to acknowledge pain and loss without judgment or fear...

Each tear brings a fleeting moment of relief in the storm of my emotions, brief, and temporary. Realizing I am alone in this struggle... weighs heavily, threatening to crush me. The path to peace, to healing scars from a lifetime of conforming to others' expectations, is unrelenting...

In despair's depths, I cling to the hope that maybe...
I can find a way out of this hole. Perhaps contemplating...
A vulnerability that can free me, revealing something of my own...

Yet here I sit,

  crying...

    the journey empty...

        uncertain of who and what I am...