Why judge me based on the things you can't see, the things that I hide in my head and come out when I sleep.
Why judge me based on the thoughts you don't know, the thoughts that roam my head and travel free.
My thoughts are like exponential pieces of broken stars that I can't put into words.
They make me feel a way that I cannot even begin to say.
My soul wants to speak but can't find the words,
like a language not yet mastered,
a tongue not yet known.
These stars are constellations that don't yet exist
My mind is a vast, lonely place filled with existential thoughts and made up ways
I truely wish that I could speak freely and express my thoughts as they be.
My thoughts are stars that form constellations that can't yet exist.

*-c.a.