grounded

Writing

It’s cold and bittersweet, finding some type of sanctuary in the ground. I can barely stand but I don’t really mind. I’ve felt the ground. It’s nothing new to me. I left sad message in the bottles at their very bottom once their sweet intoxicating poisons reached my lips. It’s so glorious, this sensation of feeling as if everything I moving slowly to its destination. I left my dreams and ambition at the bottom of these bottles. My desires are slowly falling with me as I slowly stumble to the ground. It’s comfy, homey it’s not as if I haven’t felt the end of it all before. The fact that I’m slowly falling to the ground hasn’t truly hit me yet, I hope it does soon because it feels as if I’m lying to myself. I’ve felt like I’m stuck in the 3rd grade in some deep slumber and a dream that I can’t awaken from. That maybe I’m in some deep coma where I can’t awaken. Maybe my entire existence is false, my emotion are just fake words pushed into my heart. There are so many complications with just accepting who I am and I’m struggling to keep going along. I hope my life is a dream because I keep falling to a familiar ground with no hopes of returning. My world is reaching the end of its longest phase.

The end of dreaming, Dreams have played such a role within my life, maybe if I stop dreaming just maybe things will be alright and I won’t fall so hard onto the ground.

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