A thought to myself

A thought to myself.
I don’t want to make one aloud,
But I feel that way again.
Curse the tides of the yearly cycle;
Why do they have to bring me
Back to this place again?

Why do I have to
Have a body at all?
Can’t I float away
As an essence itself?
I can think alone
Without distraction.
And there’d be
No seasons
To fall in.

Materials– no, people
Divide me. I don’t know
Who I am around them.
But it isn’t me, because
I appear to you as something,
And if I appear as anything,
It is a horrible inaccuracy,
As I am nothing.

I have no name,
I have no gender,
I have no love,
I have no sexuality,
I have no time,
I have no thoughts that feel original, that don’t make me feel like I’m constantly trapped in the same cycle, never to really learn from my mistakes, never to escape the horrors I keep casting upon myself, never to live beyond these walls I fabricate in my mind, never to see your face again, never to touch you, to hold your hand, to be with you, never to know what it’s liked to be loved again, never to be honestly comfortable around anyone, and what did I do? Oh yes, I remember now.

You want me to let go of regrets.
I regret this existence.


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