Poems & Stories & Rants

Much More Than I

"You're just hard to read." I tried to laugh. I tried to make my eyes shine. I don't know if I succeeded or not. "You always seem so distant." My mom had said the same thing a day before. I was starting to wonder if those words were true or not. I've become so angry as of late. I've been listening to music so often, I can recognize songs by the 1st note.

Music and Art have grown very dear to me. I see nothing but beauty in music and art. I see nothing but beauty in faces surrounding me. Don't get the wrong idea. I'm really not a poet, I just think poetically I guess. 

I'm losing popularity, but gaining friends. 

I have so much going on in my damn head. But every time I try to accurately express my ideas, I can't help but feel that they're not good enough. I can't write poetry anymore unless I have a strict rubric to follow. 

I like to look around the classroom and try to envision my classmates in their future jobs. And I wonder if they'll ever think about me after graduation. Because who you went to school with really shapes you as  person. And I can't help but feel like everyone in the room is destined and deserving of so much more than I. 

While writing these personal dialogues, I've realized how often I use the word "I". And somehow, that in itself makes this piece of work not good enough. I can do great things if I really stop and put my soul into it. But I never really do. I feel so lacking of creativity. So lacking. 

I feel empty in my chest, and full of passion in my head. I hope one day I'll forget all about this feeling I've felt for years now. I'm not some insanely intellectual mystery. If I was to sit down with a professional, I'm sure they'd be able to figure out my every move and thought in a matter of weeks.

I wish I could figure myself out.