crap

It was never mine to begin with,

now all I feel is addiction,

I'm casting glances over my shoulder,

worried that the next good thing will pass me by,

stuck in a phase,

waiting, waiting, waiting,

too much routine,

can't stop the bad habits,

choking on the ugly reality,

this has got to stop somehow, today, now.

draining.

vision fading.

yet hope still escalating.

where does this come from?

I just want more of what was my own life back.

to travel,

to love,

to kiss,

to climb,

to run,

to sleep,

to eat,

to have conversations,

to daydream,

to read,

to write.