Just sitting here, crying. Wondering how many times in this life do I need to reinvent myself, before I no longer am me?
How far must I travel? How much baggage? Why I can’t seem to find the good anymore, through the pain?
I’m so tired of life…of my life
Why would I ever think my life would count, when even the good doesn’t erase the sorrow I feel?
I know God supposedly doesn’t make mistakes, but I think he did.