I'm admired,
some may say.

My kindness,
my courage,
my unbarred humor.

Carefree vegan,
ambitious dreamer,
propelled activist.

All these describe me,
but do they define me?

Often times . . .
after I reach my limit,
I lay in bed.
Stare up, in disappointment.
My past sins creeping in,
my future faults a movement away.

All it takes
is one wrong thought.
Just with that,
artificial confidence radiates my body.

Unaccomplished goals
drown within a drink.

Past paralyzations
demolished with moshes
and blurry vision.

My tongue shaping unfamiliar words,
executed with inescapable dread.

While cool wind invades pores,
thoughts of others
blare in ears.
With such fast-paced nights,
tomorrow becomes unworthy.

But once midnight strikes,
blotched mascara
rests on my cheeks.

Back in bed,
familiarity ignites.
I say my prayers,
my thanks,
my sorrows,
then once again,
float off towards my dreams.