How many more people must I hurt and leave in ruin,
Before everyone realizes they should just leave me be?
I'm so far gone I don't even remember if I was ever the person I imagine was me.
The promise of life I was given upon my birth has been broken many times over.
Life is more than just the absence of death, the unknowable nothing.
I'm somewhere amidst the rest of Life and Death in the heady, infectiously oppressive ether of purgatory.
Possibilities of what could have been, and what still could be, flash through my mind so blazingly, blindingly fast,
That I am left with nothing but that which already is.
Back to square one.
But I have no one to blame but myself,
And I've never been much inclined to self-motivation or ambition.
How can I teach myself to be something I have no idea how to be?
I suppose in time we shall see…