You leave with a deep sigh, and the breath you leave spells hate and disgust. You wish this is the last time you leave. But you are reminded of where you're going and you realise no place is better, after all. At least none that you can go to. You are at the brink of crying and all your head tells you is to runaway. But that's just wishful thinking again.
It makes you gag to think what surrounds you defines what you are. You know because it shows in the little things you do. Or in the little things you can't do. You start asking when, but at the back of your head the question really is why it can't be now.
You wonder if you just need to pull yourself back to the ground. Everything and everyone is not good enough for you lately. But then again, maybe you're just pushing too hard. And you know sooner or later, you're gonna break.
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