By. Lauren

I zone out like a rocket lost in space.
I am always ready to come back to earth but my engine never manages.
It's always my mind making me write.
I do not know if there is an inch left of me that has not been weaved into a poem.
I once was my own person now I am shared with the world.
I once fit together like a puzzle but now I don't fit together at all without reading all my poems.
I do not remember a single one of my last feeling because I vent more than I feel
I am a rocket lost in space ready to return home.