Big city life calls
To me
The anonymity of
Fast-paced
Anxiety
Forms an intricate
Anthole world
Tiny creatures constantly
Moving
Scurrying
Hurrying
Each tangled in their own
Complicated web
Connected in some
Way to everyone
Else

The lights call my name
Wait for me

in this reality that I am
i am really not sure of who I am
i find it rather exhausting
because it's costing me time to unravel who i am
but that's the journey of a lifetime
being who you are, perceiving things as the person you are
i find it hard to live under my skin
it's something akin to asking a beetle to live in an anthole
entirely inadequate