quiet nights

and left with my own thoughts..

on nights like these, i wonder, ever so often, if i would ever find my place in the world.

i’m stuck between two worlds: one of dreams and one of responsibility.

nights like these, i can’t run away from wanting to run away, to foreign lands and foreign sights and foreign smells. with my necessities in the luggage and the world at my feet. i wonder who would buy my stories, or who would worry about my safety. but these thoughts in my head, are but dreams, and like the wisp of smoke, its gone before it was truly there.

nights like these, i can’t run away from needing to be here, where the roots are of my own, where there’s love and concern over every sneeze. i can’t divorce the fact that whatever it is, i was the cause of all this. that it was, for me. that it is, for me. 2 am and the lights in the cracks of their door were still on, and i can’t help but feel my failings.

i do not shed tears, even as they burn. they catch in my throat– and hopefully they die there.

i want more. more than this life. more to this life. more with this life.

this transient moment on the spectrum of forever. i wish it would pass faster. fast forward. fast fast forward.

but alas, we are but mere mortals, and for some, a dustspeck.

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Author: c

my world, out of your reach

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