I sit here
All alone
Wondering why I feel fear
When I'm all grown.
I have my own life
Yet
I feel like I'm holding on for dear life.

Life means nothing without love,
But why do I feel so done?
Why do I feel pensive
When I did nothing wrong?

But then,
A voice I thought never would I hear again
Whispers softly,
"Maybe you should get rid of all this sorrow that isn't yours”
I look up, and wonder
How much of this sorrow
Was mine to begin with?

Is it true
That all along,
I've been holding onto fears
That weren’t meant for me to drown in?

The room doesn’t feel so empty anymore....