The number grows but
I still can't tell if I am whole.
Every day is nearly the same
until it's simply not.

Even family changes or moves on.
No one is safe in the long run,
Not the encountered stranger,
the acquaintance or friends...

Nobody knows when they'll meet their end,
and it scares me.
I don't like the YOLO philosophy,
but here I am again, pondering.

I'm trying to make sense of everything
I'm wondering what exactly I need...
What can help me be happy?
I wouldn't say I'm ashamed but my past is embarrassing?

I guess I'll continue and just keep going
I'll keep trying my best,
For as long as I can,
I'll try to get through this

I hear her new hit and my past hits me like a mack truck.
I'm always falling into these ruts,
looking, searching, almost begging for reasons
Universe? Soul? God? Trauma?
Who made me like this?
I'm sick of this problem
Remembrance, rain dance, tears, karma
You're so embarrassing
"Go cry where no one's watching"
He said that to me and I stayed around him-
*****.
I isolated so hard, I tried to be forgotten
but deep down I just want to feel understood
like any other person
I want love and care,
Hurt me, choke me, leave marks where no one sees but me.
Just say you love me after;
I won't care if it aches.
I've already been in pain, irritated or feeling worthless
I haven't cared while caring so much
I'm sick of this problem
I want to blossom but it seems I'm a bud

Once upon a time, there was this country called America.
It was a place of dreams and imaginations.
Where anyone in the world could go.
Anyone could be an American.
You can't become Indian, or Italian, French, Irish, Russian, Chinese,
Japanese, etc., etc., etc. by moving there and assimilating.
You'll never be one of them.
But, once upon a time, America was the Golden Ring.
That ring is out of reach now. It's rusted and broken.
And the merry-go-round keeps spinning.
And the occupants keep flying off in all directions.