Doubts And Dreams

Have I not come down this path before? Have I not dreamt of a happy ending stemming from all things? Have I not feared the doubts that clutter the entirety that is my conscious?

I remember, from the long thoughts that I had in me, from the innocent mind I grew from to the semi-maturity that it is now, the worries that accompany my every move, my every step. As I venture, the closer I try to get to the end of the road, the narrower it gets, with the walls closing around me. Strangling, choking, my being. I know not the consequences of actions taken while emotionally high, I never do. Trusting the heart has brought much bane more so than joy. The mind sits idly, not knowing what more can it do now that it has been sidelined by the stronger force from within. But it tortures the consciousness, with thoughts of dread and apocalyptic pathways. It takes advantage of the part of me that dreams of fairytale endings, twisting them into doubts that shiver me to the core.

Time is the scapegoat of my thoughts. The blame has always fallen to the past, the present, the future. It is me, my insecurity, that kindles all these manifestations of pessimism. And I fail to deal with them as I should. Because I assume too much in the face of failure and misgivings, with ever extremism. I wish for time to pass, and me not to fall prey to its test of perseverance. I have fallen before. Many a time. The resultant endings causing me to shape into what I am now. Misplaced, misjudged, mistaken. With a diary of emotional distraught to show, continuously haunting the soul inside. A ghost of the living.

All I ask, is for comfort. Something I never had. Somewhere I could go to, to be held in arms of angels, to rest this tired spirit.

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Would you be here just as I was always there? Or will I be forever be taken for granted? Questions in a turbulent mind and emotions in a waiting heart. Lost in transfiguration. Finding a home.