Leaves crumple under my feet as my eyes are fogged by my layered tears.
I’m walking under the brightest street lights, but still feeling completely in the
dark. The area feels so loud and chaotic, but the only noises are created by
me. The roads are dead. My heart is hurting. I’m feeling everything, yet nothing
all at once. It is so cold out here, but I won’t go back there. Not now, maybe never.
Freezing air is surrounding the warmest soul, yet avoiding the cold, intoxicated
heart that lies only four staircases above it. I don’t know how to make things better,
I don’t know what better is. When the heart becomes sober, things could be better,
but things won’t stay better. Not now, maybe never. That heart is empty, if it’s even
there. The sunrise seems to be forever away, and I can’t wait forever. Others come
to me with comfort, but I can’t feel it. I know it’s there, it’s right there, but I don’t
know if I should reach for it. I’ve finally let go, and I don’t think I should grab onto
anything again. Not now, maybe never. You let years slip away within hours. I will
not be sorry for seeking a life that you couldn’t give to me. And I will not be sorry
for refusing to let you get in my way. Not now, maybe never.