Work Text:
My life is full of joy;
Of happiness and expressions of love,
Of life and hope and a future.
And my life is a good one,
A good life, not the kind
With 2 1/2 kids and a dog, but a good one nonetheless
My life will amount to much,
I'm sure.
I'll get these feelings off my chest,
I'm sure.
I'll find joy in the things again
But until then, I'm stuck;
Stuck in-between
The previous and the present and the future,
The joy that was and is and will be.
I'm stuck in the in-betweens of my life,
The transitional period that makes me feel numb and sad and indifferent to the world.
Perhaps it's the time of night at which I'm writing this,
Or maybe it's the morning,
But the in-betweenness of the circumstance becomes to great to ignore.
To large to be contained, to giant to be squashed.
So I sit in my purgatory of my own making
(Not that it was a choice, rather, a brain that decided to torture itself)
And I ponder the in-betweens and the previous and the now and the future,
Until I can feel that elation,
That excitement,
That caused me to be happy in the first place