it's been a long time since i wrote;
on notebooks i have words and some
cursive letters --
as i try to figure out the font of my name--
but i never truly write.

i kept staring at the walls and, somehow,
the room shrunk,
but i told myself i was okay.
even with this much space i could never suffocate.
i'm too scared to think about death.
then the walls keep staring back at me,
and the starry lights make me
starry-eyed,
starry-mind;
lost in dreams
of things
again.

i get so lost in thought of life
that i forget to start living mine.