Wasted

I’ve lost many years. Sat in the dark, counting cracks in the ceiling, wishing for silence, cursing the noise.

Plans rotted on the shelf. Dreams went stale. The clock laughed. I let it.

Nothing grew. Not love. Not courage. Not me.

Now I stand, empty-handed, wondering if starting over is even real.

Or just another lie, I tell myself to make the night shorter.

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