I left my world
and all of its small comforts
and headed for the city.
On one end,
the desire to stay.
On the other,
the lust to leave.
Soon enough the air
in my room would run stale,
and I'd watch my dreams
tumble and fall off the shelves.
They'd sit to collect
dust in the corners
like forgotten birthday cards
and last week's paper.
I'm left starving,
ferociously begging
for a different life.

So, here I am.
I've tasted victory and I've tasted defeat.
I think that's the thing about chasing dreams.
No one said this life was easy,
but we're doing the **** out of it anyway.