Down to the Bone

It cuts close to the bone. It stings when flesh reacts to 350 degrees. And then it burns. And my stomach turns into a knot. And I am saddled with an anxiety that I have never quite been approached with before.

That I Would Be Good If I Did Nothing?

It sits on my shoulder. And it whispers in my ear, right before I fall asleep at night.

That self doubt. That I will never figure anything out. Why bother? Because I can only run into so many brick walls.

I Wish I Had River I Could Skate Away On

Maybe I am writer? Spending so many years denying it after failing, thinking of coming back to it. I need to come back to something.

I know most don't have anything figured out, but they get by. I am not getting by. I am drowning. What if I just don't know?

Saying that out loud. It's hard enough to say it out loud, but when you say it to someone else the doubt, the pity, and the amount of time they take in trying to figure out a solution. They search for it. Or they search for me. It's as if I just misplaced my keys.

But maybe I did? Because my door isn't opening anymore.

It's A Bitch To Grow Up

And my bed feels warmer than it ever has, even when I'm laying by myself. That moment when you wake up, before you start the day. There's so much promise in that moment. Before you realize what your days is and your responsibility is.

And then you have to respond to what the world gives you.

I need the world to give me more.