I struggle with life.

Most think it's where I'm at,

It isn't,

It's where I'm going. 

What do I have to offer,

What am I lacking,

To be me.

I see my future.

I can describe what it looks like.

It's a massive blank sheet with nothing written on it.

It's a snow storm in my mind.

It's quiet.

It's cold. 

No sound is getting through,

From the echoes of my dreams,

My screams into the distance,

Pleading for purpose,

For destination.

There's no return,

Like a sonar never touching mass.  

Like a dove,

Never finding land.

Did it drown,

In the futility,

Of effort.

Is it happy,

Somewhere,

With someone,

That found me,

Screaming into their own distance.

Did their sonar,

Find mine,

Losing the echo,

In purpose,

And embrace.

I hope.

I hope.