xx

photo

"Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are miserable." 

-Voltaire

I'm me.
I live on the edge everyday,
afraid of future possibilities.

I like the way the rain drips,
the sounds ring in my ears,
providing comfort and warmth,
though the droplets cold against my skin.

I like the feeling of paper,
as I go through my shelves,
filled to the brim with books I've touched,
and touched me.

I'm in a constant hurry,
for things I'm unsure of.
Adrenaline rushes through me,
though I don't know why.
It's an undeniable fear.

I am worth the while,
the torment that goes in and out,
the pain that fills my shell,
and the thoughts that circle me.
They don't make me, me.

I am more than what I think,
I am capable of things,
things I cannot believe.
Neither will I ever,
unless they've been done,
by my own two hands,
with inspiring plans.

I talk about feeling worthless,
tears stream down my flushed cheeks,
as I sit on the porch,
waiting for someone to come by.

I wait,
and I wait.

I realize that there is no one,
no one more than me, myself, and I.
These things are of my own,
and I am in control,
if I try.

I like the skies,
the way their cool tones provide a certain calmness,
like a blanket wrapped around me on a cold day.

My mind is quiet,
nothing more to be heard than the sounds of crickets,
as they play their music around me,
hidden in the grass so green.

I crave the days that take me away,
far from the mess,
the games, the tests,
for relaxation fills me,
and I'm in love once more.

xx