And everything
comes to a point
where the smoke dissipates
into the ***** air
and we are left
with nothing
but the wild desire
to start another fire.

The confidence and passion hidden in my eyes,
deep green pools of emotion that you can read like a book.
They overflow with ire from each bad decision,
each chance I never took.
"Push through your jab, Now a right hook"

There's always someone in my corner,
but a fighter wont always listen,
your ego can get the better of you,
under those lights that shine and glisten

I am
"the quiet one"
in the class.

IF I RAISE MY VOICE
DOES THAT MAKE ME MORE NOTICEABLE?

or if I whisper...
will you be hanging on every word,
trying to put my mysterious character together like the pieces of a puzzle

Regardless of my volume I still go unnoticed
My name is not heard except when followed by
"__is so shy"
                 "quiet"
                 "nerdy"
                 "weird"
etc, etc, etc."

Despite my agreeable demeanor
Acceptance is the prize trophy that I've been working for my entire career
only to see it scooped up effortlessly by a rookie.

All I want is someone to care about what I have to say or how I feel.

But that's all that anyone wants.
That's all that anyone has ever truly wanted in this life, no?
Aren't we all just hopeless romantics, drowning in a sea of passions, confusions,
broken hearts, and drunken brains?

I am no different; no more exciting than any person walking the halls
So tell me what can I do
other than submit to exist in this lonely, pathetic predicament?

I am
"the quiet one"
not
because I have nothing to say,
but because
no one
will bear to hear me.