This life I’m living, it seems not to be mine. It hasn’t felt like my life for many years now.
Some things have changed in my life lately, but some have stayed the same. Maybe I’m a little bit closer to find myself.
Sometimes I live in the past, though. I miss the friends I used to have. I want to go to the places that I used to go to. I keep seeking the books that I used to hold in my hands. Except, this all is long gone.
I want so badly to get out of that maze. I want to get all the things that belong to me. Catch the wind in my backpack. Stain my favourite jeans with the ink of my wounds. Read the words aloud. Tell the whole world about scars marring my skin.
I’ve been waiting for so long. How much longer?