I get lost in the me.
Inside my head. Stuck in this room with nothing in the future.
Nothing…in the future.
So all I do is think, think, think.
Thinking of all of the things I have lost. All of the moments that have gone away. Things I could have, should have done differently.
No hope for a future.
My head spins on what is now. But mostly on what is not now.
Is all I have left the could of, should of, would of, if I had only known what tomorrow would be?
Mostly, my thoughts are a blurry, bumpy ride, wallowing in regret. And fear.
And panic.
So much panic.
I am suffocating under the weight of it so that I can’t hardly breathe.
This is me.
And I have nothing left.
Yet, looking back, I see a past of empty dreams and failed potential.
Nothing but a wasted life.
I will die on the street having done nothing worth remembering.
And no one will notice.
