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I am so, so young.
And I am always, always running.
My movements are inconstant and my mind is in too many places at once to count.
It feels as though I’m nearing a climax, exploding, time crunch is on,
And I’m going to be one long leap too late, one reach away from the peak
When it hits, too strong.
So, so young, and yet treading like I carry a burden; owing to create something wonderful out of this world
And for this world
But between feeling too old and looking too young
There is never enough time.
The fleeing thoughts. My childhood didn’t seep through my fingers.
It crashed onto the pavement when I stepped off of the sand
and wavered too much
And it slipped off of my shoulders.
Now, time doesn’t fly anymore. It chases my nightmares instead; waking up is the hardest part sometimes. Hours drag on and on and on
until another 6 months have passed and you’re still writing the same list of things to achieve
Over and over
The seasons chase one another around the equator
Like a pup chasing its tail, so, so, young.
Stumbling blindly, floating,
Doubting whether a step forward is maybe two steps back
Because there is no compass, no one path, and one leap closer to the tip of the mountain is one leap further from the depths of the ocean
And for some reason, we can’t have both.
Between being too old,
And feeling too young,
For some reason,
it still feels like I can’t have both.
I was meant to be
Somewhere else, someone else
And I’m wasting my time.
No, I’m biding my time,
But maybe I’m biding the wrong time, in the wrong place, waiting for something that was never meant to be mine.
Always running, doing, trying,
Running. I don't know where I'm going, but maybe I'll get there faster.
Doing, even though I'm never quite sure why, or how.
Trying to fill all the space in my lungs, all the gaps in my mind, because maybe I will be better if I manage to hold the world in my hands.
Too bad that I know that I can't. And it feels like betrayal.
We are all so, so young.
And always, always, running, trying,