Stuck in a world,
Living vicariously through others.
In a snow globe of disaster,
Looking out at the happiness that surrounds me.
Even in my dreams
I don’t give myself the things I need.
How am I supposed to make amends
With the life I lead?
The life I could’ve had-
Shot down and broke apart.
Didn’t even give it a second chance, and I call it my dream?
You’d think I’d to anything
To salvage what I could
But I didn’t, I just couldn't
So, lost and miserable I stood
Settling for less every day since,
Hoping the dream was just a dream
And it would pass.
What scares me most:
I’m starting to think I can do it--
I can have my dream.
I was so comfortable just believing
It was a far off fantasy
But now I think
'Why not me?'
I constantly struggle with discovering what I truly want. I'm good at lying to myself in that respect. Then, I had a bit of an epiphany one evening...