Work Text:
I want to write a poem
that will be able to touch someone's heart
that will make them feel
the things i felt
When I wrote it.
They say
if there's a will
there is a way
but i don't possess that will
and I haven't
and I don't know if I ever will.
Will is a foreign concept
will as in want
as in need
as in passion
as in power.
I seem to lack it
More
and more
and more
and more often.
It's likely normal
to feel this way;
have times when there isn't a will
so there isn't a way
but i don't care
I hate it
I despise it
nothing matters as it should
and every waking moment is a chore.
If I could restore my will
I would
but can't
because I have no will
to find that way,
and it would simply be easier
to pass away.