I want answers, is that really so horrible? I'm tired of constantly questioning and begging to hear words instead of silent waves of emotion and urges that I can't control.
Whose dreams are these that flood my mind, because they surely don't belong to me. I've had a taste but my soul yearns for the entire meal, handed to me on a plate of certainty with a smile that says yes, everything will in fact be just fine. I no longer belong to myself and all I hear are strange voices constantly caressing my thoughts, forcing my lips open in a dance of this language I have never once heard from a body so young. The amount of times you have seen the sun set should not amount to your ability to embrace love and feelings, to harness belief into your own hands and bring a garden through the cement.