One day.

One day I’m going to leave this Earth.

I will walk silently out of it. Few will remember my heart. Many will not even know, and others will not even care.

One day I am going to end my suffering once and for all. What will remain is my writings and poetry. The true essence of who I am.

One day I will end it, or life will end it. We are all going to die anyway…

But one day, my death will be a little too soon.

I am not strong enough, and I am not willing enough, like I used to be.

I need, I need, I need someone to believe in me.

I need your love, as if my very life depended on it.

My heart is broken.

I stitched it up, in hopes that someone could see that I needed a little care and attention.

I thought it would be you Jocelyn.

I did.

I thought that you could see the very life that you breathed into me, and the very life that I had to offer.

This is a coping mechanism.

This is merely expression.

The fact that you read this, gives me satisfaction.

I am so sorry to myself.

I am sorry to you.

I feel pitiful, and broken all over again.

I was climbing, and rushing to get back stronger.

I was building my life back solid.

I have some remaining remnants of your love to carry me just close enough to tryouts, but I hope I do not burnout or lose belief.

Because honestly, death, and walking away from this Earth is a stronger desire.

This is closure.

These are feelings.

This is simply how I feel.

These are my feelings.

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