Trying to figure it out
Something to find to make things worth the work
Something to have, to believe to extend my faith
Nothing in particular, nothing concrete
Looking for reasons to exist exhausts my mind
Am I lying to myself?
Am I just a coward trying to dodge the eventual bullet
Or am I just afraid of living, loving and loneliness.
And so it continues, as I go into another day
Another week, another year.
Distractions from the emptiness I live and I feel
More pain, more distance, more fear
But I’m here.
At least for another year.