Reads: 177  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

this poem/story touched base with concepts and concerns that i think should be recognized

Submitted: October 31, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 31, 2017



Fifteen years. Still it feels as if I have accomplished nothing. I have reduced myself to a pile of forgotten dreams. I have forgotten how to see through my own eyes and not a screen. I am now fulfilling my goals by watching someone else do them from the safety of my bed. I supply the dirt they bury me with. I am not human, we were not meant for this. We have too much power. Nothing else needs to kill us, we made it to the top of the chain an now we are destroying ourselves. A world so full of people trying to cheat death, yet we are death itself. I am throwing my own choices and paths away in the desperate hope to find someone else's clear, finished ones. I have become so dependant on those around me to succeed to the point that I have reached failure. I am trying so hard to hold onto the last little scraps of Life I have but in doing so I have confined myself to watch the rest of my life slip away. Only now, have I started to realise this. But I'm afriad I'm fifteen years too late. I have lost my voice and my compassion. I live in reckless fear now fear of the start, fear of the end. All I had to do was tear myself away from the safety of that window, and step outside into the Life I was watching, breathe in the moonlight.

© Copyright 2018 Lucie Warrington. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


More Romance Short Stories