Shooting Stars

my beating heart feels like it's going to implode. my breathing weakened and my strength diminished. my will to live fading slightly into the mystic realm of the past. it feels as if i've been beaten and left for dead- all those hits i've deserved. my homesickness widespread throughout my aching body that's numb to the outside world. there is strength within my soul somewhere, lurking, waiting and storing itself up until the time when i cannot handle the rough journey of life. i will live on with my life in attempts that the shooting star in the midnight air will shoot past my window and i am allowed the wish of freedom. the freedom to smell the air without inhaling razorblades, the freedom to walk without feeling the aching in my limbs, the freedom to speak what words i desire without them coming back at me tenfold, the freedom to be myself and i, not dwelling in the confind chamber of my mind and my strength, passions, and hopes fading from sight. im waiting for the rug to be pulled out from right under me and into that black hole i'd fall. a silence in the night is a silence throughout. a hope, a dream, these feelings stick. my past makes me who i am and formed the demon that seeks me. wherever i go whatever i do, it doesn't matter what happens to me. i'll take the pain that belongs to the world. i'd rather spare others of pain then see them suffer. that is an everlasting hope. to say i'm sorry is not enough. to apoligize without words to speak is a nothingness beyond words to say. all i can say is- wherever that shooting star may be, let it shoot past everyone's window before mine. let others have their wants and wishes and lives and for them to be okay.