What is this?
I do not know. There are days where I would rather crawl into the sand than sit on this train or even dream. It leaves me drained, I lay still believe and it will get better. It will not. Why does hope exist for me? Maybe that is the exhaustive part, this waiting and wretched hope. It leaves a bitter taste while you wait alone. Oh, the pitty party! Hope, hope, hope, hope! I want no further part init if I feal like this. Leave me to my draining, alone to be pittied by no one. It is as it should be.
Advertisement
