Poets have been lying to me. I can't reach out and grasp constellations with my bare words and I am not the deep blue sea that you think I am. I am a dried up stream of self doubt and I am just a rough draft that was tossed aside because it's clearly not worth working on. I am that short straw no one wants to pick. But godammit all I want is to be that one who shines brighter than the sun or who you are at a loss for words with and I want you to see the infinite possibilities in my eyes and not the sad wreck that is actually there. And god is there anything I wouldn't do to make those words dance on the page again just for you but instead I am at a loss for anything or anyone  when all I pray for is love, for even a single friend in this empty world because ****, I can't look at you without imagining what won't be.