Untitled p.10

this is the wreckage of who I am,
left swaying in the wind,
lately, things have been getting rough,
I’m still faced with the same old flaws
my sights are set on distant heights,
I want to live, I want to breathe,
my lungs are being filled with desperation,
so where do I go when I’m alone?
what do I do when the safest thing I’ve known
leads to an unfathomed pain that I cannot ignore?
I am a ghost in a field of fallen cherry blossoms,
I’m losing myself to this emptiness,
nobody is coming my way, home is just a place to rest,
and I’m going to lose myself to my same old ways,
I’ve lost faith in happiness, we’re all giving into bitterness,
no matter how fast or slow it gets, no matter how rough,
I am timeless, I am only limited to myself,
can you hear me?

I know that I’m not perfect, but I’m ready to go,
I know that I’ve damaged what you’ve created for me,
but can I sell my life for streets of gold?
this place just doesn’t feel like home,

can you hear me?

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