Beyond the Free
This year is closing in on me, drowning in infinity. Trying to make myself believe, that you are what lies beyond the free.
Trying to live, according to your plan. Inside the word “your”, is our and I guess what I am trying to get you to understand, is that our plan is your idea again.
Before I die, before I give in. I wish you would, come see my begin. Before it’s too late, before we never meet the end, I wish for you to come descend.
“I wanna fly away,” is what I feel. Beginning and end, I know this must be real. After our end, there will always be a new beginning to deal. I wish you well, you have my soul to steal.
Um yey, help
from Sylvia Plath’s novel, The Bell Jar