I'm lost,
and that's fine by me.
I'm following a faint song
that keeps me focused,
fighting,
but not alive for long.
I'm blinded by tears,
stumbling through
a forest of sadness.
I'm tripping over roots
of way larger trees
partially obscured by mist,
the rest obscured
by stress, anger, rain.
I'm stuck in a teacup
pacing the tiny area,
drowning
in some sort of drama
all the time,
every time.
I'm stuck wandering a forest,
in a teacup,
lost in a tiny cup,
walking in circles,
tripping,
skinning my knees,
scraping my elbows on the bark,
blood dripping,
tears dripping,
leaves in my hair.