Air Conditioning

The World

The world is so strange,
Especially mine.

Limbo is a fuzzy descriptor,
For how I live my day to day life.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...
For the next
Goal, opportunity, job, purpose

Just waiting.

Every day.

Even when I'm doing something productive,
As in finishing my high school education,
I feel like I'm
Waiting.

Every day is a bit more draining,
With mild fluctuations,
Makes me wonder how long I'll play this waiting game.

Probably until I finally take an antidepressant prescription,
Yet I still doubt it all.

I doubt it's not normal to be so tired,
Senioritis, right? Its fine.
I doubt it's not normal to struggle to get up in the morning,
And fall asleep at night,
Because you don't want to face the day...
Its normal, right?
I'm becoming an adult,
and living through all the faults in this world,
So it's normal to be so tired.

It has to be right?

I'm not suicidal,
I'm still functional,
So I shouldn't need medication.

But maybe I'll just never really know.

I've lived like this for years, so I don't remember what it was like not to.

So it has to be normal right?

I just need therapy, some time to heal, and...

And I'll feel better.

I won't feel like every day is waiting for the inevitable,
Waiting to have it all end,
Waiting for happiness I
Secretly doubt will ever
truly come,
Waiting for sleep to come and never leave.

Maybe it will be easier to sleep
With warm arms
And comforting whispers.

Maybe my body won't feel as prison-like
When I tape my chest
And avoid looking at my stomach too long.

I want to believe in the happiness I'm owed,
I want to think I'll get it someday,
To think I've suffered enough to have the universe in debt to me,

But the universe doesn't care.

So I'll play my waiting game,
For happiness that may never come,
For a life I may never get to live,
For the life I'm made to lead,
For the people I care for,
For the things I stand for,
For the changes I want to make,

For the world,
My world,
That I will chase.