I’ve been sorting my thoughts into bins and I realized that everything I am is nothing I want to be. I must go back to the start. I want to return to the earth and dance in between the constellations. Oh, how I long to be free once again. I want to be me.

My soul is suspended between heaven and earth. I’m stuck in purgatory of self-caused misery. Desperate to find my way back home, I pace back and forth until I figure out how long to stay. I always want to leave before I even reach my destination.

I only see in blurry images. Every time I talk I stutter out the wrong things. I’ll never not choke out words. If I could only replace the criticism spewing from your vocal chords with music, I wouldn’t be so hard on myself. I sold my soul to make you feel better and now my insides are on fire. I’m so sick of obligations, but I can’t break this habit.

I don’t want anyone to die or live an unsatisfied life. “Why did my mother teach me to be so polite?” I think as I jump off the cliff first. My legacy will be remembered as the person who sacrificed everything in order to wrong rights. I'll just remember never putting myself first when I really needed to. Even the holiest of people took time for themselves.

I always set myself up for failure because I’m terrified of the truth. What if my plans don’t turn out like the film strips I see in my head? What will I do if the real me doesn’t succeed? I would have nothing to fall back on. Is it really a possibility to become unhappier than I am in this moment? I hope not, but every time I think I hit rock bottom I fall deeper.

The dim light of hope raises its hand and asks, “What if I soar as I dance amongst the stars?” I take a moment for myself before I answer, “I’ll still hate myself for waiting so long to try”.