If I start the words
Will it let me catch the emotions
If you see a post
Probably seeking for attention
Then I'll be fine by a validation

Still I am lost
And I can't hear my words
Drifted somewhere
Myself is not here
Allow me to rush
I need it now

I close my eyes
To escape from the same walls
I open them
Because today
I just need to be okay

It's flying without wings,
And falling when you didn't jump.
It's getting hit by a freight train,
When you weren't even standing on the tracks.

Some say it's a feeling,
Others seal it with a kiss;
It's a language you never knew you could speak,
When you two started talking.
It's dreading the end
When you haven't even started.
It's drowning and floating at the same time,
Except you don't find yourself in the water.

This week,
I trudged along the cold, salty
waters of the rocking ocean,

I swung my feet gracefully
and walked along the sandy shore,
a ballerina, stretching her feet
to form light, bittersweet
curse words in the sand,

I tilted my head back
to drink in all of the sky,
the stars twinkled
and swallowed me whole,

I scanned the rising horizon
for miles, reached out to abandoned shells
placed at my feet,
quietly listened to the sad, melodic
voices, of gleaming sirens
in the ocean's heart

But despite my breathlessness
in the crisp air, of the gray ocean
I still could not
find you,
the one I so yearn to meet,
the one who could
make me forget the sorrows,
the delicate, hidden pain,

the one who I deserve
to love,
because now, everything else
is no longer worth a thing,

and everyday,
is still like

the stars
going out
in my empty soul.

I looked in the mirror this morning,
And there was a little tiny change,
An older look to my eyes,
My smile was foreign and strange.

My posture was straighter and taller,
My cheeks were thinner and slim.
I'm changing right before my eyes,
And every day I'm at the whim
of Whoever decides what I'll be
When I'm an adult someday.
When make believe no longer appeals to me,
And I've forgotten how to play.

So what I want to say to this elusive Whoever,
what I want to ask of this woman,
Is "Are all these changes the real me?
And is the real me who I am?"