Poems of a broken artist

normal again? or different?

its not like yesterday, 

but yesterday wasn't like the other day. 

and that day wasn't like before. 

I'm being lovey and mad and terrified and bossy.

I'm confused and making things make sense and mixing emotions. 

this is different from yesterday but..

the same as before. 

before the help, before the confusion, before the new. 

am I the same again or am I different? 

is this me and that a fake me?

or was that me and this the fake me?

lord knows I have no idea. 

*confusion* sets in no matter what path I look to. 

my parents say they want me to drop it then tell me I'm losing myself. 

people say that I should go at it then want me to stop loving it. 

the saying goes if you do what you love you'll never work a day in your life then people show how broken their dreams have become by being in this reality. 

this reality seems to hate the imagination of people who are weak or lazy or not going at it but also puts down those who do try.