Lost

Lost. I can't understand the thoughts that I'm thinking; thoughtless thoughts, yet the thoughtless is more complex in relation to thinking, and I'm wondering if it's real. I'm trying to fulfill my mind, trying to cross this jagged line of my memory, but my memory is fading from my knowledge, and I can't quite paint a picture of the scenery of my thoughts, but instead through feeling. I know what's real when it's right in from of me, but I don't know if my thoughts are composed within my reality, or if I might be dreaming of these thoughts that's taking over me, Lost. I'm lost in me; swimming in a pool of thoughts with nothing but a deep end connected to it and I'm drowning. I can't explain what's happening to me; I'm wondering if I painted a picture of what I am feeling, would it make sense and clearly be seen? I feel it would be nothing but abstract scribbles in between the lines of my canvas, as if my mind went back childish in a sense, you know, You know, I never really understood. Understood the purpose of my thoughts, even while trying to analyze, because even then I would apologize for them. Questions were my thoughts, and my curiosity befriended them, making the cause of my confusion, then my confusion would be confused mixed with more confusion, I am so lost. In my own shadow, I follow myself, but only I keep returning to same place over and over and over again, And again, I am just trying to find the lost pieces of me. My thoughts are like puzzle pieces, only I cannot finish because my pieces are missing. I'm incomplete. It's sad to feel the need to have someone come complete me, emotionally, when I'm not even complete completely, mentally. I'm crying inside, my tears scratch the roof my eye lids wanting to be free, But I can't show the enemy how weak I can be, Only the strong makes out the world alive, and I'm just trying to survive, and I'm hoping that the world doesn't eat me alive and doesn't spit me back out, Because only the lost doesn't find their way back home, Lost.