i'm breaking it
down into pieces,
these strange encounters
when the clock strikes three
a wanderlust
not of the foot, but this lie-fed mind
elevating curiosity, of the safest spots
hinting the edges of the unknown
am i the biggest fool?
thinking that my dreams are too big
to fit in this bottle, eyes fixed on me
are my dreams too big for this small town?
know that you're home
but i discovered wheels
is it the call of my heart
or a shout of escape?
do i accept, and let it be:
the bar set low below my neck
or should i step inside an outside place
the city, and the lights, shrinking behind me.
i'm currently in a headspace where nothing really makes sense, and that everything i do or i choose is based off of survival and not for joy, or love, or growth. i pretend like i know what to do, but i am just a kid, growing up. this is so hard yet so beautiful. the unknown is a gift of time.