The ghost of another life E

Sometimes I think that somewhere in a parallel life, There is a version of me who somehow got It all right. She found the words, refused to run, And chose a road in spite of every circumstance And every fear in sight. I build a sterile world around her, Where everything arrived exactly when it should and Stayed. As though that fabricated universe had never known a Single flaw, A trace of pain, A moment of weakness or shame. I stare at every door that never opened as If paradise had waited just behind. Though none of them had promised me salvation, It was only my imagination filling in the other Side. It is astonishing how easy it is to Fall in love with roads where you have never Taken one real step. Because they've never faced a storm, Demanded patience, tested courage, Or collected any debt. Every choice I make will take away something I Can never recover. But in the very same breath, it will inevitably Save something too. I will no longer worship the ghost of another Life, A life that no one in this world will Ever live or make come true. What? What never happened always looks magnificent, Until the cold relentless calendar drags it down to Solid ground. But destiny is never born inside my thoughts. It starts where I break past the borders of My mind. Where I stand before reality, Look it in the face, and tell myself, "It's time." For far too long, I buried the present underneath The endless words. If only I had known back Then, as though I could become happier inside Illusions, where time is nothing but water slipping Through my hands again. But every new day that I waste inside this Never-ending battle raging underneath my skin Disappears forever without a sound, Leaving absolutely nothing in the life I might have Lived. I may never know how much I lost through Choices that can never be undone. But it is far more frightening to remain suspended, Waiting, and never dare to choose where I should Run. Because the pain of any honest mistake will One day settle into a scar that tells the Truth. While what I never found the courage to Attempt keeps tearing at the oldest seams with one Relentless question: What if? Every choice I make will take away something I Can never recover. But in the very same breath, it will inevitably Save something too. I will no longer worship The ghost of another life, A life that no one in this world will Ever live or make come true. Reality may never once become ideal, But it alone knows how to breathe, How to bleed, and how to truly come alive. I would rather meet this honest day directly Standing face to face than spend forever suffocating In the airless arms Of some imagined life. Hmm. Hmm. There Is no world in which a life can come Without its painful losses. And there is no choice that does not carry Final, Unforgiving costs. But only life that has been lived can break The lock upon the door And free my ego from the silent walls it Built inside my mind before. It stops existing as a beautiful illusion And Finally becomes my life.