#such is existence

Of note, it’d be nice if Fictionpress will start letting users disable guest reviews. 

Also, to one who left the review, you don't have to read what I write, by the way, and NOT reading it is very easy to do.

She had ideas Of what she wanted to do Before her hourglass

Ran out

Composing a list Of said ideas

She thought about travelling But was too afraid of flying So, she'd have to adjust the list accordingly

She had places she wanted to go But, remembering her fears and anxieties, She'd opted for something more realistic

Instead of visiting new locales, She'd op for finding someone to exchange Correspondence with instead

There were some things she wanted to do Certainly, but she's opted to "downsize" them To something more reasonable

Reachable, rather

Still, she'd make a note Of what's already done And, thus, can be crossed off

And what hasn't been done Thus, perhaps, could be added Would she live long enough

To complete her list?

She wouldn't know Just that she was making adjustments To her list of things to do and see

She made a point To only keep some things To herself

Locked away permanently Never to be discovered

She stated before She lived on the outskirts of her family Like a human raised by wolves

She once wondered how it'd go Being raised by wolves but mused that it wouldn't be any different She didn't really belong

If it were wolves, she wouldn't belong either (though, she'd arguably feel more connection)

Her existence to theirs Was separate and she's always existed on the outside So, she wouldn't try to alter it

(it would do no good, anyway)

She'd be damned in reality And equally damned in her musings She existed on the outside

If she were raised by wolves, she'd never belong With her shared genetics, she never belonged at all Regardless, existing on the outside

She existed on the periphery And never meant to belong A fact she's accepted

She stated before She lived on the outskirts of her family Like a human raised by wolves

She once wondered how it'd go Being raised by wolves but mused that it wouldn't be any different She didn't really belong

If it were wolves, she wouldn't belong either (though, she'd arguably feel more connection)

Her existence to theirs Was separate and she's always existed on the outside So, she wouldn't try to alter it

(it would do no good, anyway)

She'd be damned in reality And equally damned in her musings She existed on the outside

If she were raised by wolves, she'd never belong With her shared genetics, she never belonged at all Regardless, existing on the outside

She existed on the periphery And never meant to belong A fact she's accepted

She had questions Many questions

Did she do something wrong?

She'd like to have known

Could she make amends?

On their terms, if the other party allowed it

What happened?

She didn't know, she'd never know

Endless questions without answers As she was locked out of a loop Unknowns bleeding into the known

She won't judge their reasons Whatever said reasons are

They didn't want to be bothered Thus, she won't reach out

It hurt, certainly But she'd feel the hurt before moving on Such is existence

(and existence is too ephemeral)

Still, she had questions Questions that'll never get answered Did she really want to know?

Perhaps, she did The unknown was painful, inches short of agony But, perhaps, she didn't

(still painful but in a different way)

Was it her fault?

Possibly

Could something have been done differently? Perhaps, if anything

Why?

Maybe there was really no reason

Questions, questions, more questions.

Such is existence Such has been existence This she knew

It hurt And she was used to it She'd feel the hurt for a spell

Before moving on Existence is far too ephemeral Too ephemeral

For a such transient connections

Especially ones made through a screen

Perhaps, her questions may be answered Maybe the connection could be reestablished Regardless, she won't hold her breath

It is what it is It's happened and there's nothing she can do Besides to wish them well

When a connection is severed In the void and painful unknown of acceptance A torrent of fate in bittersweetness

(or punishment rather)

She still had questions Many, many questions Remaining unanswered