Recently, I often find myself feeling small
I know “small” isn't a legitimate emotion but when you live in a city of 825,863 people
And attend a university of 30,500 other kids
Who stumble and still manage to fake the answers to
Why why why
Where where where
How why where when when when
When your best friend lets The City change her into a stranger in a skin-tight dress at a club
And your boyfriend throws excuses like rocks at your naked body
And your closest friends are these words running across the page
Faster and faster and faster until these letters bleed and run and you don’t know what they mean anymore,
You start to feel small too.
Shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and constantly shrinking
Until you are the tiniest dot on a map in their hearts and flushed through their veins and spat out like a bad taste in their throats.

I'm surrounded by a sea of people
As far as the eye can see
All flowing in the same direction
And just floating along, is me

I've been wading in this water
Letting it carry me any way
Not caring about which direction
And never having any say

After wading all this time though
My legs started growing tired
So finally it was time to choose
Which direction I desired

But the problem with floating along
Was that I never became aware
I wasn't really a part of the waves
I was just sort of...there

What I wanted didn't matter
The waves still moved as one
Whether I moved with or against them
Didn't matter in the long run

Then I thought I better get out
And give myself some time to think
But I couldn't see the shore anymore
And with that, I started to sink

Now I'm surrounded by a sea of people
As far as the eye can see
All still flowing in the same direction
But drowning in it, is me

Nothing to say? Nothing to say?
Oh catch yourself on.
Since when have you
Ever had nothing to say?

Liar liar
Or so they say.
But if your words be lies
Then why do you hide it?

Loner loner
That's what I am.
You say it's untrue
Well then why didn't you notice me gone?

My thoughts are weary travelers
Waiting for the safe haven
Of the blank pages
Where ink rejuvenates them to life
As memoirs for other travelers