Conundrum
Random, free form poem I wrote almost a month ago.
What is to become of my life?
How can I possibly slow down and see things in front of my eyes.
I'm trapped in a past that wasn't mine.
Determined by a multitude of mistakes
Jumping from dimension to dimension
Each one like the last, but never home
I'm all alone; drowning in sea of people.
How does one share experiences that never existed?
How can I relate to people who keep changing?
How much can I adapt before I snap?
The future is my past
I can't relate
I can't even begin
What is it to find love?
How to relate when
I have seen a thousand outcomes for a planet
Caught galaxies on fire and stopped time
Worked to improve my life by destroying my being
These were mere child's play
Old and weak; hard to imagine my future self
I can barely lift a finger
I am a puppet pulling my own strings
Shadow dancing for others
All the while dangling by a thread
I was made to please
I worked to save my life
Only to die in the freedom
Is it inevitable
That forever is
But never really?
I don't think so
There is always choice
There is always will
I will make it home
That home is my goal
And that goal will set me free
Death from freedom?
Endless cycle