Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2013
Growing, moving, changing, nothing
I asked the worker at the coffee shop what he thought I should get
I've been more indecisive than usual lately
He recommended a chai latte
So that's what I got
I do strange things to avoid certainty, to avoid stability
I keep thinking I don't really know myself but I'm really not sure
Who am I?
A phrase that is in continuous repeat, ringing in the veins of my introverted mind
Who am I?
I could probably tell you
If I really wanted to, if I really tried
He said to me, "Chai tastes like... Merry Christmas!"
It made me smile
Dreams and coffee drinks and pages of books and sweaters
Is that who I am?
It is surely what I am compiled of
I am a wanderer
The girl who constantly says goodbye but never really knows how to leave
I should have mastered leaving by now, you know

I'm staring at brick walls
And a painting of two sleeping cats
There's music playing in the background
I'm awkwardly sipping my chai latte
On the other hand, seemingly distant, I am completely aware of everyone and everything around me
Always observing
Always listening
I like it, by the way
The latte
He was right
It does taste like "Merry Christmas"

It's already 5 o'clock
It's already October
It's cold outside today
Extremely cold
Yet, I've been driving with my windows down all day
I don't feel cold
I don't feel warm either though
I feel numb
I feel like nothing

Every day I just kind of sit back and watch the world go by like none of it really happens
Like all of it is a dream
I'm out of touch with reality
I rather enjoy it that way
Rather prefer it that way, probably
I know what my name is
I know where I come from, who I come from
So why can I not tell you who I am?
Can anyone really, truly, put into words who they are?
If they can, I am in a lot of trouble
Especially if they can do it easily
But that would make a lot of sense because it all comes down to stability
Or so I think so anyways
I haven't had any form of stability in my life for a very long time
And let me tell you, that is what will **** someone up
Who AM I?

I'm ****** up, emotional, and slightly neurotic
I'm only 18 years old but I feel at least 50 years more.
I grew tired too fast
Life is tiring for me
It's not supposed to be like that
Not yet anyway
I've been so sad my entire life
And my sadness acts as the very core of my being
I'm a strangely tangled up pile of thoughts and feelings
Past experiences and people
And this searing sense of nostalgia for what once was
And maybe even for what is to be

What do you call it when you're constantly thinking of the past and wishing it was still here?
When you're constantly longing for the future and wishing it would come sooner?
When you're constantly dissatisfied with the present and wishing it would disappear or change or something?
What is that?
Am I delirious?
Am I going crazy?
I almost hope so
I need some answers
The world is either in fast forward or paused
Growing, moving, changing, nothing
I am nothing
I am nothing
Goodbye
A poem I wrote October of 2012 in a coffee shop
Evynne
Written by
Evynne
1.5k
     Nithin purple, Timothy and jdmaraccini
Please log in to view and add comments on poems