Three Years and A Day
(I hate my life.)
Three more minutes and nothing's happened. Something will happen, I'm sure, and I'll be thrust out there again. Into this cruel world where I open my heart and it's broken.
My inspiration is dry and my art is dead. My memories kill and none at all burn. I'm stuck. It's loss outside and no emotions at all inside.
It's one minute after.
Nothings happened. It's three years and a day.
(I'd choose loss.)
I wanted something to happen, to be given what I want above all else. Because I'm stuck in this for all eternity. I want my old life back. I want my art and my laughs and smirks and colors and joy and expression and I want life. And…
I want to be given despair.
I think people used to knock. I can't quite remember.