What was it that made me love you? The vibrations in my head?
The experiences I associate you with? I’m lost as to what it is or was.
Searching for a voice. Still afraid of mistakes. Envious of the joyful happenings that others endure and saddened when I hear you emerge from others. Jealous.
Lost is the grip I had on a thread now slipping into basements. My mind destroys itself with the assistance of an ego destined for destruction. Nothing but unfinished dreams and projects half started and incomplete. A ghost with no shell. Terrified of duty and disillusioned by success.