How deep are you willing to reach?
What if every point of power, every memory could be used till it was empty?
And at the end of all your hardest trials, and after all the times you reached, your retrospection and history was all but burned and ash. Scorched by your own fire.
Who do you love?
Why can't you look into their faces?
Why do you want to run away from what makes you feel tied to this world?
You have seen and felt what it is to be alone, cut off and left to dry out.
Left to die.
My mother..
My father..
The grandparents..
The partial love I hold for strangers
The colorless love of family
These words don't matter like they used to. When you say the same thing for a decade the words tend to loose their meaning.
Oh how I can say and declare you and I but I'll never find my way any closer to the answer I look for.
Is it peace? My own personal peace?
Or is it the peace of others along with myself?
My heart tells me neither. All answers are wrong and so is thinking about them. But the silence doesn't satisfy me. Nor does the answer that I am not mean't to be satisfied because life is harsh in it's reality. An answer is a solution. But the equation is not always a problem. Therefor needing no solution.
Does my pain and my joy answer to an equation? Is it all just the same, no matter the imbalance in experiencing the two. It is the matter, the way of things.
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