february 15

stuck in this state

filled with emptiness

but succumb by expectations

the tide is rising

the waves come washing and erasing.

whats left is nothing.

a nothingness i crave

to erase this path set infront of me

this path, forcing and pushing and urging.

i long for nothing

so i can be nothing

the greatest struggle is to be erased

to be forgotten

but to be complete with oneself

to know deep down inside

being nobody is being happy

being somebody is never authentic

you are always a carbon copy

imitating and replicating.

free yourself of this mold

do not strive to be somebody

somebodies arent real.

strive to be nobody; only then will you be yourself.

illusions.

It took me having to explain you to different people time and time again that I realized I can sum you up with one illusory adjective "hes's perfect" is what I usually say.

"so why aren't you together?" is what I get back.

And I've come to the evident realization that what makes you so great is you're unattainable.

The situation is so imperfect it simply illuminates how perfect you really are.

It is the worst irony I can imagine, something so desirable is impossible to have.

It makes the pain in knowing you're somewhere, out of my reach but in the reach of others far luckier than me, almost unbearable.

but then it makes me question if you were real to begin with.