It is amazing
how just the thought
of having to go home
can incite such tremendous fear,
trembling hands
watery eyes
a bad mood
and heavy weight
making my body tired and slow?
Isn't it fascinating how
no matter the great day
the timeless adventures,
the tender hugs,
going home
can make it seem
like it never existed?
isn't it wild
isn't it phenomenal
isn't it crazy
how simply going home
can make me want to die?

I'm stuck in the past
living for the future
always thinking
never doing
responding
reacting
never waiting
letting my imagination get the better of me
stuck in my head
stuck
like a stick in the mud
I don't mean to be
but end up
just that.

It's time to be stuck in the present.
to live for the now.
Always doing
waiting to react and respond
calm the thousand scenarios in my head
stuck in my heart
stuck
like an impulsive juvenile
like I mean to be
and end up
just as I've always wanted to be.

just a girl
confused about boys
trying to find her place
laying on the floor
watching Skins
dying to be skinny
but can't stop binging
crying over silly things
heartbroken over matters
that in years won't matter
lonely
angry
misunderstood
broken inside
writing poems
because I'm so deep
and unique
no idea
how to be social
without the media
staying away from drugs and drink
because that's the only way to cope
with past tragedies
that have soiled my good dress
so I only wear pants
in case I need to go on an adventure
so my life can be more like those teenage movies
with dancing
montages
love triangles
and happy endings
thinking I'm extraordinary
pretending I don't notice
how conformed and ordinary I am
unsatisfied
reactive
and inactive
I'm just a teenager
no different from the others
I'm just a teenager
and soon I will grow up.