Its getting to that sort of time where people will ask over and over
Only to go and ask again.
For now’s become a time, that I am supposed to know.
Who I am, what I want to do, where I will be staying and where I will go.
But honestly? My answer?
I do. not. know.
I’ve thought about it in dreams, both awake and asleep
People panic you, draw lines and set rules all to box you in
And here I am stressing and fretting about fitting in
Straining myself, Draining myself to try to fit
into one of the boxes you give.
Feigned freedom in forced choices of how to live.
The worlds your oyster, so dont be afraid
Oh but please do remember these choices remain
Through all your winters, summers, autumns, springs.
Feared to moved, but forced to choose.
I hide myself from time
Ignorance is bliss, and a decision a noose.
But I am breathing steady again now,
So I thought what I wanted, and I wrote them down.
sometimes I can whip out a sweet essay in two hours and sometimes it takes me four tries to spell prevalent