Old in it’s Ideal as Time Itself

I sit here alone not wanting to breath or move…forcing my brain to take one step forward at a time. My body and mind cry out for the comfort of my bed…to wrap myself in the  comfort of my quilt with a false sense that its the only thing that won’t leave me or maybe that’s not false- who can say? my spirit wants to cry out – no- scream out “why are these things happening to me!?” all every girl wants is to feel loved and appreciated. At last, reality comes crashing down that life is not the fairy tale that I grew up believing it was or would turn out to be instead it’s the complete opposite. Are we lost as humans ? Is being in love just over rated? why does my soul yearn for LOVE? I understand now that there no such thing as love. I’m forced to walk this world forever tortured knowing that my spirit – as old in it’s ideals as time itself- will never experience such a thing as love.

By Jomarie Hernandez©

Edit by Tiffany Denny



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