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Boobs - when team nicknames go bad
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I’m torn still. There are forces pulling at me. It can only be describe from the void I feel growing in my center, the tension flowing through me in waves. It comes and goes like the tide. The forces of gravity manipulate them; the forces of fate and destiny plague me alike. It’s the purposelessness I feel, a growing sense of emptiness. The analogy of standing in a room with the lights off and the door closed: devoid of light you still know something is there. I struggle to name it, to answer the question that was never asked. I have a craving for life but if it were a cake, someone would already have taken the last piece. As if last in line, the first left out, the one not picked, were my curse, I am lost in ignorance, feeling only an unattainable drive that should be me.
