I can feel a pull to something and I don’t know what it is. Too often I’ve hidden behind my words time after time I’ve made rhymes I don’t mean my mind has spilled without my permission; something about it feels right but my heart might be wrong. I always wanted to lay out my feelings one by one but they’re tangled like headphones in my pocket. I’ve always been desperate for questions but I’ve never given answers, always felt a bit narcissistic that one day I could do something fantastic, and no one would be there to see. I’ve never understood the meaning of the word “me”, and believe me I’ve tried always laughed at people hiding, “finding” themselves, I don’t know why I’m giving directions when I’m more lost than ever. All I need is to see, and to hear, and to touch and smell and taste, to base life off what I do instead of who I am contradict my own plan, I’ll change my mind next week but I’m running out of time, life is long but it feels like winter, like the days are getting shorter and I’ll be this confused until I’m gone.