Where should I even begin, my mind is ******* racing with observations, perceptions and lessons
A cluster of thoughts needing to be released
It's a hard thing to do with the recent pace of sudden changes
In combination with an overactive mind
I read a poem that said a wet face is better than a dry soul
And Lord knows the moment is coming when I will explode
I want the time to be sad and the strength to be weak
I want the confidence to speak or the discipline to write
I can’t deny the fact I feel sick and depressed
I can’t figure out where I learned to feel so numb on the outside
I want so bad to believe in hope and I am tired of feeling lonely
With the unfortunate events of death surrounding my reality
There is indeed a part of me that still believes
A sweet optimism underneath
I just hope I don’t lose you as a part of me drowns
Because disappointment no longer phases me
But to not believe in anything, might ruin me