A letter from my old self:
There I am shrouded by exhaustion
in a crowd as I bounce
between groups trying to blend
in but it's not fun
and at times I am merely
a passing friend
when I want to be more than
that to people I want them to know
the real me the teenager
who hates shopping but would
go out just to
spend hours with friends
even though reading
is where I escape to on my own
I do study a lot too much
to the point where
the rest of me is hidden
which makes it difficult to explain
why I love roller coasters
fast ones of course or
the reason behind my needy
obsession to travel
so you have no idea who
I actually am
which provoked a
change in myself a fierceness
my inclinations are
gravitating towards because I want
someone to want to grab
my hand to hear my stories
I stayed stamped against the wall
observing everything but never
speaking up and that is
no way to live your life.
