If I gave up everything,

That makes people upset,

That hurts them,

Would I still be lonely?

Still in exile?

Disliked?

What would life be like if I wasn’t hear?

If I found a way to

Disappear?

Would someone be hurt?

Would some cry for me?

Would someone ask where I was?

Lost at sea?

Or drowning in insufficiency?

The sun would rise,

The moon would fade.

All but I would be the same.

Tired, lonely, confused.

Wandering.

Aimlessly.

Yet unwavering.

Waiting for the weather to change.

Hoping for a sip of water,

Through the rain which never ends…

Asleep forever in existence,

But too awake to give way…

I am caught somewhere between,

Like a tide which cannot change.

Going one way,

But wishing another.

The path I walk.

The one I choose to walk.

Alone.

Am I even going in the right direction?

Am I even moving at all?

And I walk just to say I’m walking.

I breathe just to say I’m breathing.

Is this the proper way to live your life?

In fear

that

Something

will change?

And I look ahead.

Down the path which I take,

Where the scenery never changes.

Unseen,

Cold

Fragile

But

Unwavering.

And it seems I am far behind everyone else.

Walking their path.

Briskly.

To be finished with it.

Complete.

I say I walk slowly because I want to enjoy life,

Because I would like not to miss a thing.

But secretly, I am just afraid.

Afraid of what is farther down the road I walk.

Where I cannot see the end.

The others are miles ahead by now.

And I stop, to smell a rose.

To appreciate a blade of grass.

To dream of the sun.

To watch the sky.

To hold the moon in my hands.

And I cannot decide if this is because I’m brave,

Or undeniably cowardly.

What am I afraid of?

What can possibly be down this road,

That I have not seen already?

This,

I fear

I do not know.

And that’s what keeps me going.

The curiosity keeps me walking.

All but that tells me to stop moving.

To lie beneath a tree,

To fall asleep.

To stay in my soft niche of grass and sky.

To never be afraid again.

And I look down the path, that everyone else has finished now.

And I wonder which outweighs which?

My stubborn nature.

The pride that wants to know all.

Or.

The scared little girl.

Who does not

Want to grow up…