Winds—A Means To An End

Winds. The winds, they carry me. They remind me that I'm a real person. That I exist. I feel the winds within my bones. On my skin. They remind me that this never ends. The days just go on and on like a merry-go-round. But it's either that or get put in the ground. Everyday is a chance to change, but maybe that's the one choice I never really make. Try harder. Do better. Your not doing enough. But maybe I am and just like the winds that push and pull, you can't see the silent storms that I carry. My mind feels frozen. My mind feels stuck. A means to an end, when do you stop giving a fuck. A fuck about the world. A fuck about the likes. A fuck about who is wrong and who is right. I block people who hurt me. When I don't really want to. I care too much, but caring is free. Free is what gets you in trouble in the end. You give yourself away to others just to get nothing in return. They mistake your kindness for weakness and your softness for a flaw. But maybe that's what the world needs more of. More this. More me. More raw.

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