ᒪᑫᓯᐢ

I see people living genuine lives, and I feel as though the best I can do is imitate it.

Far too often I don't "get it".
I've never possessed "meaning" or "purpose" for long.

I feel like if I overthink it hard enough it'll all make sense

or if I let go hard enough, it won't all have to.

left to my own devices, I cry about it, and ventpost, and feel alone.

but together in a group, I feel codependent, anxious, and like I'm playing pretend.

houses and cars of different prices. a fish swims from a shark.

is it "all" warfare? is it all a competition?

is the "real world" one of my past that I must return to? or is it a terrifying new one that I must learn to accept?

sometimes it just isn't worth the poetry