My heart beats in a frenzy,
Uncontrolled and clinging to
fleeting pride,
I wish upon a star,
to give me confidence,
to give me assuredness,
for I feel it has never been
felt before~ Truly, in a way
my pride is not corrupted
by narcissism.

Because deeply,
As my lungs soak in
air and my head spins
irrationally,
I feel how sanity
seeps out of me.

I am left with
a pit of empty
aspirations.

I have a fascination with
all things love,
Daydreams constructing expectations
and a daily need for a thing which
I have yet to experience,
It's an obsession which has
evolved into a fear ~
Fear of a broken heart,
of a lonely life,
of distracted dreams.

~ Funny my ability to
overthink.

I want to take my car at two a.m.
Drive to the lake 2.6 miles away
If I’m not alone, the shadows will hide them.
Under the frosted glass lamp of the moon
I rip my heart out at the seams and scream
Towards a horizon I cannot reach.
I traipse with unconscious purpose
On broken pebbles shifting underfoot
Collect the biggest, the prettiest, the best
And throw them
One by one, after the other
Relish the splash
Feel the weight of each rock leave my hand
Messy arcs into impartial waves
There goes the GPA I still want to recover
Years lost to overthinking when younger
I drain every tear I had wanted to show.
I can wander wherever the night takes me
If only I could learn to let go

my thoughts shiver
because ive gotten
sick to my stomach
from all the mess
inside my heart

I've watched the movies of my ages,
Even those that were before,
I've read books of teenage feelings,
I've read about leprechauns.

The world has become an endless series,
The scenes repeat in every lore,
There's no book that could surprise me,
The same stories in every store.

My eyes are saying they are full of seeing,
They are replete of colours,
Even my mouth is fed of disagreeing,
They both wish to remain closed.

While my eyelids are feignedly sleeping,
While my lips are firmly closed,
The darkness is calling and appealing,
But the movie colours shout.

The films keep shooting everywhere,
Like an ever writing Molière,
But do the plays interest me more,
Or not seeing them anymore?