Withering, torrid, tormented soul floating through life just
waiting for the moment
when clarity
will be obtained. Craning neck trying to peek around the next corner knowing that
whatever is next must be better than
what is.
With each step into the future, tears are shed for the past as
whatever is now can never be as good as
what was, and yet
what has not become is
what is
wanted most. Each new discovery is an adventure to be conquered and
with each heartbreak, the end of the
world. Sappy music to cry to as a soundtrack to off balance hormones,
whispers to ignore in a hallway of divas
while trying to master seven subjects in an eight hour day. And still,
what I
wouldn’t give to be fifteen again.
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