While trying to paw some way through life,
I've found myself wondering what I want from any or it.
Not necessarily the purpose of it all,
because I wouldn't mind putting a rain check on that bit of knowledge.
But rather, what I want to acheive with my mere morsel of a life while it is mine.
Most of my time has been spent with less than savory events,
almost as though I was putting a down payment on a house.
But the trick is that I don't really know where this house is,
or if it's actually an apartment and I just wanted something
that sounded like I wouldn't be alone in.
I actually never even pondered owning a house at any point in my life,
Adults will always tell you that
at this age,
you're not meant to have the foggiest idea where you want to go in this mess.
Even when any of those substances leave you groggier than you're supposed to be.
As if there's a certain level of confused that serves as a limit to your mental capacity.
I'm not sure if I'm more confused when I'm at my lowest points
or when I almost reach happiness.
I know that I've never really experienced the happiness that they always talk about in films,
and while I know that they're all over dramatized,
my mind likes to take a bit of truth from everything thrown at it.
The media's allowance of such ferocious happiness can hurl one into envious rage.
Maybe that high-school happiness is there,
and I'm not looking for it because I was not meant for it,
and in turn it was not meant for me.
I haven't decided if this is a positive or negative yet.
Or if I'm at all okay with the way my life is turning out.
Part of me wants answers to why I haven't been able to have any of these things,
this tangible love.
And while not everything that is true is also meant to be tangible,
I find myself longing for it,
although one cannot miss what one has not had,
I'm befumbled as to why I so much as crave the idea.
I know that I've done nothing wrong,
perhaps my heart and mind were a bit too much for one person to carry on their shoulders.
I've no clue how I've been doing this for so long then.
Or youth doesn't grant the patience to handle so much of a person at once.
I'm confused and confusing it seems.
It's a strange sensation,
the yearning for love and the knowledge that love is not ready for you just yet.
I'm not sure if I'm at peace with this.
I haven't had a first kiss,
but my lips have embraced powerful words that aren't worth dainty whispers.
My body is pure,
but my mind can handle the strongest bonds that you could want to build with it.
My arms have embraced mountains of quaking heartache,
though you only see them wrapped around a pint of ice cream.
Sweet sixteen turns a little sour when you act like you're twenty one.
The love I have to give is not what seems to be given these days.
Old souls find themselves lost within the spines of books,
for they are the last with spines to be spoken of.
I have found grace in the dark spot of my far from void chest,
where a little bit of me still throbs because there is no use in releasing love
before it has decayed.
It will live on,
until it is ready to flow somewhere else.
I only host it for a limited time,
and without my recognition, it will have already been given away.
And with the knowledge that it will end,
the knowledge that it will stay until it is meant to leave becomes easier to swallow.
I neither look forward to that time nor detest it.
A different love will reside within me some other time,
and it will be worth all of my ache and sustaining of this one.
Love will change as I do as well.
Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.