My happiness is only in distractions.
It's when I'm alone
that I realize the full extent of what that means.
Another's smile makes my own spring in unexpectedness,
pleasantly surprised that it wasn't practiced.

I should be on Broadway,
with how consistently I play this role.
Of someone who gets by, whose only worry
is when to sleep and wake to work.

But this isn't me at all.
I close my nights with eyes that see a life unfold
a span of sorrow in disappointing my world.
Family that will cry at what I've failed to do
in the name of doing what I'm afraid I'll fail to live.

I'm so scared to leave this world
with nothing more than the dates I stayed.
The thought of having nothing to offer
mocks me into deserting instead of believing.
I wish for the strength to go beyond my own doubts,
the force to believe with every bit of flesh
that I can give my soul to the world.