I write this to you coming from deep within the woods of my soul

Is it real? I may not know.

I am tired of thinking I know everything about myself and what I want. I don’t and I probably never will.

This is why I don’t trust myself with things like this.

I am here withering away all that I took as reality.

What of me now?

I beg in front of a Love that only knows the answer.

What did she say?

Oh, that I will soon come to an answer. And to accept it despite my integrity.

That really said something.

And now I write this to you, as I’ve been waiting to.

Why do I begin things I cannot finish?

This saddens me terribly.

Will I ever know?

What of my life?

Where will I go?

This I never knew and it’s like something within tries hard to hold onto something tangible.

Maybe I’m scared.

I’m more lost and afraid than I thought.

Who else can admit that?

It’s late and I’ll continue this night.

I’ve been here. In this home.

-Natalia


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