absolutely no one

how did i used to write?
when i had something different to say?
lost in the plans
and caught up in the past
i dreaded every morning
as if i couldnt leave
as if i dont remember repeating
"the past lasts"
and missing careless summer
the pull of pools of forsaken wanders

the repetition in my head would defeat me
pull me under and deplete me

but obsessive repetitions would complete me
writing poetry easily
feeling as if
in this, im enough

i would be so proud
and yet, so lonely
sharing
"get to know me"
but there was a lack of understanding
and im like
"this makes sense"
found what i needed
usually so mute
but this expresses completely
read this
its perfect

as my emotions change so quickly
it keeps up
when there is a frog in my throat
and i cant speak up
not to you
ill just suffer
and let it boil up
when i uncover

its been a while
and i feel raw
forcing myself to share it all
or high alone
in my car
scared as shit of what im doing
regretting decisions
i havent completely made
wondering what its like on a different road
in a different state

ive proved twice i cant
and finding myself back in the nesting hole
wondering if its enough to stay at home

everything is so deeply felt
hot in this bed
feeling ill melt

why cant i just stay for a minute
burns the tip of my tongue to think about it
but maybe i should try a little less different
i could find an edge of the nest thats big enough
build a life and fall in love

i went out on a limb to shake things up
and though i came home
im not the same as i was

feeling now proud
that i know what i need

no longer questioning whether im brave enough
repeating to everyone
im not the same as i was