i guess its time and true
i finally got the freedom i wanted
but instead of rejoicing in my daunting adventure
i'm pacing the house like a dog
and not accomplishing the simple tasks i've been left with
its being burnt out
and being afraid of the trip yet to come
i'm pacing the floors like a madman
doing everything but packing
and hating myself for being the way that i am
talking to old friends that give zero shits that i'm alive
stalking all of their old pages again
always hanging around the places and the people that hated me
and revisiting every terrible memory that built me into the monster i am
as if i, too, am mourning the trip that i am about to take
away from the town that destroyed me
in a rage for the glass i have to step upon
the people that don't deserve forgiveness
are the last to see me go
i hate this, the limbo between
walking out and being begged to stay
i find that the longing was what i really crave
i'm finding that i hate the world from halfway out the door
