Freedom

I wish that this was over.

I want this tedious, 

tiresome,

long

Life to be over.

Many have lived longer

Many have lived worse

But

It is hard to see

It's hard to see through the

Fog.

The fog of being with so many, but,

Being alone.

The fog of drunk, but,

without the joy.

The fog of privilege, but,

without the freedom.

Freedom.

That is, in itself, a strange word.

It gives you the idea of happiness

Of self love.

Who sold that lie?

I have the receipt, 

I want the refund.