Too bad.

I looked in front of the mirror and I said to myself, what the hell happened to me? This is not the entity I have always known, the person I believed that can change everything. Everything.

But now here I am, standing by the lamppost--the same lamppost where I promised to kiss my faithful one--but I am lacking. I am not sufficient myself; if I will talk once more, I might as well break down. I don't know what's happening anymore. I'm being lost in the forests of my thought, constantly striving not to see but to feel my way out. I am really afraid to let go of the vines that pointed my path; but, I am too depressed to reach out for another vine. My imagination clouds my intuition--I can't set my inspirations apart from my faith. I am strangled by the familiar scent of wildflowers that sprouts unevenly as I cross my road. I am too shattered to be radiant, too dull to be signaling, too broken to walk. I scrawl every tree I pass the name of the clouds I see up above; for now, I don't want them to leave my side. I wish for a flashlight but what I get is a tiny flask with a firefly within, dawdling lively and playing by the graces of the unknown.

I am keeping myself busy, shouting and yelling for help.

Do I get any help?

Do I even exist?