Elucidating Questions

I want to go home

But I have never found it

I’ve never found a place

I didn’t cry in and wish

I could go home

Imaginary home built from imaginary things

There’s nothing real

Nothing concrete

It’s all just stuff

It could burn away and be gone.

Stop.

Go away.

He’s fine and he’s always fine and why should it matter real life is easy

This is all easy

It’s been really fucking easy

Despite every second of every day I spent begging to just stop thinking all alone by myself and it’s never happened

Not once

So he’ll be fine as he has been because people love him and he’s perfect so why am I here again in this fucking hole because I decided long ago I don’t want to dig

But I keep going

At least if there is a hell I’ll fall into I’ll feel something