Broken (Don't listen)

The words that could have been spoken. The words that would never be.

I sit with another weight. The weight of things that might be said.

And I was lost in the chaos of my mind.

In the narratives that I created out of nothing.

Self importance in the face of sheer existential misery.

The world burnt and I found my own ways to be petty.

Broken in more ways than one. In very different ways than you are. In the very same way that you are. Don't listen. Don't read. What do I have that doesn't die?

What do I do that survives? What do I know that isn't borrowed.

What did I come with when I was born?

What do I take when I am no more?

What is it that I really have?

Who am I to even talk?

The earth spins and I am no more.

The earth spins and I go home.

Back to where I come from.

To dust I return, that is all I know

Who do you think you really are?

What's actually going on?

A thousand breaths are all I have. And that is all I really know. Who do I think I really am?

Is there anything to this life?

What happens when I really die?

Is there a rhythm to all this life? I wrote with tears in my eyes. There is nothing to our lives. I wrote with tears in my eyes. Time's the only thing I really had.

Who was I to even write? Who was I to even think? What did I come with when I was born? What do I leave behind when I am gone?