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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1613209
How I feel about my life. To be as a mouse on a treadmill/ Was never my intent.
In Memory of Me


Responsibility looms all around.
Dark storm clouds, swirling, crashing…
Blowing away who I once was.

Simplicity tries in vain to break through.
To be free of the restraints,
Constraints of the path that was chosen.

Fleeting joy when I see their smiles.
My children... my husband...
Precious beyond words, every moment.

What would he think if he saw this?
Would he be angry? Hurt?
Mistake this as a lack of love?

To be as a mouse on a treadmill,
Never moving, always in motion,
Was never my intent.

Suffocation seems the only end.
Suffering in silence.
Only the inside is dying.

Brimming with regret and desperation…

Sadness
At the loss of myself.

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