#3 - pleading

How do I avoid the never ending feeling of doom consuming my entire body? Why can’t I take my soul out, scrub it raw, and smash it on the floor because I know it's not enough to fix it anyways. Let me restart, build one again from the ground. Weave it together from every other person that's seeped their existence into the same dirt my feet walked on. I am not special, that has been bred into me since I was crying in a doctor's arms. But there is a constant craving to be put back together with pieces of others because I can't stand the ones I picked out on my own. 

Let me be anybody but myself

There's a part of me that's always waiting, and my breath is caught between a pair of lungs I picked apart with my own fingertips. You're telling me to click unpause and press play on a movie that I know has a bad ending, but I can't stop watching you float in a bubble of your own fairytale. I could never afford to live like you do, but I’ll try if it means you’ll stay. 

k.c