I am lost.
I am lost and I don’t know who I am.
Where I am.
What I’m meant to be.
It all seems so unreal--
The brown-green leaves of the trees, the sounds they make rustling against one another as an invisible wind rushes through, the dappled patterns gentle sunlight paints against the ground.
I see it, and I feel it, and I can describe it, with a million different words, but none of it punctures reality, none of it makes its way through to me.
I feel as though I am underwater.
There’s a thick cocoon of dark, choking water, rushing around me, keeping me from the other side.
Or maybe it is protecting me.
Perhaps its darkness, its frightening appearance is as much to terrify those who would harm as me as it is to dissuade me from crossing.
Still, it keeps away those who would guide me, those who know at least a small part of what I am meant to do in this world.
As it is I am still lost, and hurting, and frightened, feeling small and too big all at once.
This world does not feel like home.
These people do not feel like family.
This body does not feel like mine.
I am lost,
And my family misses me, I am sure,
And my friends cry my name, begging me to return,
And my body lies, half-dead, half-asleep,
Waiting for my soul and my mind to fill it with life once more.
I am lost,
And the only thing I fear more than never returning,
Is the chance that there is nothing to return to,
And this is real,
And you are real,
And I will die here,
Lost and alone.