Sad poetry.

My suffering isn’t as severe as before.

Still, some things hack at my core.

It splits my will, and I am no longer stuck.

But I find myself in an occasional rut.

Loneliness is my current mindset.

In hindsight, I always knew I’d be alone.

But I was hopeful enough to find meaning with someone.

I find a lot of meaning in expressing my feelings in poetry.

I find glimmers of hope, and support from my followers.

I am not depressed. No. I am just lost in the world.

I think that is valid. I think that, this isn’t mental illness. This is purity and honesty.

What is life, and why are we in cruise control?

I see humans, but I do not see humanity.

And that makes me destined to feel like some things do not matter.

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