Wander

I wandered the confines of that which we call reality. 

In search of something that would hold true. 

Ironically, what I found,

was you. 

I've fallen. 

And I can't get up. 

Lend me a hand I beg of you, I think that this time I'm truly down. 

I've struggled with this sense of loneliness and disbelief for ages now. 

I'm scared. 

I'm scared of you.

I'm scared of God. 

I'm scared of Nelson. 

But mostly God. 

Wandering is not good for me. 

I think to much about the life that I wish to live, but the same life that thus far I have fallen short. 

It is disheartening to know what others think of you. 

People say that it doesn't effect them. 

Well me, me. 

It effects me. 

And frankly at the moment I feel the weight of every comment thats been thrust upon my shoulders. 

And I'm weak. 

And most times, you are able to pull me out of it. 

This rut so to speak. 

But this time, man I feel it. 

I feel it. 

And as I wander further, I just try to not let anyone else see the tears. 

Searching for something that will hold true. 

But this time, you aren't there. 

Where you are I do not know. 

Absent in a time of endless woe.

- 

 

You don't know me. 

None of you know me. 

And I don't know you. 

And thats supposed to help isn't it?

Its supposed to make this easier?

So that I can hide behind a name that is so similar to reality that none of you are supposed to see past it?

So that I can write in peace knowing that I am safe?

-

I think I've wandered to much.