I have to remind myself,
that it won’t last forever.
But I can’t change the fact,
that it’ll be here no matter.

Hiding in between
somewhere inside me.
Waiting for the time
when it might be the end of everything.

But where will I be, by then?

Am I still stuck there at the beginning?
Still hanging on the first page of my story?
Still doesn’t mean anything to somebody?

Like how I’m still here, disappointing.

—n.y