I fear I'm doing it all wrong:

my walks alone,
Italian class,
writing poems....
Are these the best ways to spend my time?

The black ocean swallows me whole,
I'm drowning again.
Am I just obsessed with this sadness?
Or is our despair what repairs us…what keeps us on track?
What's this path we're always on
with growth the forefront?

If to be complacent corresponds to death, and the present
Is a blur, how can we focused? How can we be alive?

I feel everything & then nothing.
I'm afraid of my own self.
I pop an Adderall like it's nothing,
borrowing
tomorrow's energy
today.
Because I need it all,
Everything.