I randomly woke up at three in the morning. I opened my eyes and next thing I knew tears were running down my cheek. My throat was wide open though. Why had I been crying? It was just a dream. Some people say that based on how much you sleep, dreams can be considered an alternate reality. I don't wish my dreams to become real. The way I sleep, it's like I get no sleep at all. I wake up exhausted and go to sleep exhausted. Nothing I dream can change that. Nothing I do during the day can change that. It's like even when I'm sleep my mind keeps running. I haven't cried in so long. It's like as soon as the tears come my mind sucks them back up to prevent me from getting hurt. But that hurts just as much. My mind is weird. It thinks in different ways. I can take any point of view and look at the problem even if I don't agree with that point of view. I can take any situation and tell you what you need to do to change it for the better.
But I can't even figure out myself.
So how can I help others?
Maybe that's how I find myself? By helping others figure themselves out?
I don't know. And that scared the hell out of me.
I don't know who I am.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Wings
Poetry'For someone so small you're pretty strong. For someone so brave you're pretty shy. For someone so observant you're pretty abnormal.' For someone like me it's pretty hard to decide who I wanna be or where I want to fit in. So this isn't exactly poet...
