The W's cost

 What am I? A collection of lovelorn letters to lost souls. A wind that speaks to those wandering the ruins of what once was. I am a reflection of an unlived life, a horse reined in by no rider. I'm a chimera, an amalgamation of everything anyone who loved me has told me. I speak of love like desert dwellers speaking on rain. Maybe with more of it everything would be flowing all so swimmingly. I came to the stark realization I need a break from the harshness of its gaze. The pain that comes with seeing your heart suffering outside your body and being able to do nothing about it. The ache of seeing the final piece of your puzzle refuse to fit. The dread of walking around incomplete, soliciting, begging for a semblance of concern.

Where do lost souls go? Free unbound by attachment, I hope they find their way to each other, it's the least they deserve. Where do the wanderers head to? Those of us cursed to experience only through observation. Those of us walking with unconditional yearning hoping it leads us to purpose. Those amongst us who've absolved themselves from it all. Those carrying the burden of loneliness looking for reprieve. Those walking around with the ghosts of what once was headed to the fog of what is coming. Those without a kindred flame to help illuminate the path. Those who've sat in silence with so much unsaid.

When does reprieve come? Have I not fallen to my knees several times before. Have I not tasted my salty visage, soaked in pain and the unlived life of a young hungry heart. Or do I have to keel over to finally get what I need? The eternal promises reprieve after suffering but one must die for it. Have I not died and been born anew several times? I must serve a sadist whose pleasure arises from seeing me hurt myself numerously finding my way. Where do the wounds go? Who nourishes me for all the blood I have shed for the cause? That's right, the goal is to die. All this to do just to die with a smile. I think I deserve to die smiling because I have lived in tears