I feel lost. I think i am lost. I feel gone. I think i am gone. I see the back of the old me walks away, slowly but sure. I try to reach, but she is now too far away. I grip the weightless dust, reach, reach, please come back. Hey!
I stop. I don't want to see her gone, i don't. So i look to the road ahead of me, and its not easy. Its up and down, up and down until i can't see it anymore. Its up and down.
I want to shout, but who hears. I want to shout! I want to! But most of all, i want to be heard. I want to do the things i want and screw logics. I want to live my imaginations, because they are the only ones that remain in the loneliest days. I want to skip the hills and see the world from the top. I want to stop fearing, overthinking, and screwing. I want to tell them all i am done. I am done with everything, i am done trying, i am done feeling miserable.