I stand on a hallway, looking at the crowds shuffling in. I see the fools rushing in, the cool people taking their time. I don't belong with them or any group of people. I feel completely empty inside. A hollow shelf, needing books to fill it up. I search for the books to complete my being.
I want to share my darkest and best feelings with you, but i can't. I am so insecure. I am afraid of people mocking me and not caring about me. You are a figure of hope and desire. You are what I try to understand, but I can't begin to explore you without me knowing myself. I only need to be left alone with you, or away from everyone. Some place I can admire and look within myself and see what I am lacking compared to you. I am just sure about my anger and sadness, the cruel mistresses that control every single thing i do. Every day, every hour, every painful second, they start consuming me. They eat away, they leave a corpse rotting with insecurities and faults. I will never be able to find what I am lacking. My soul gets smaller after every passing month, I am afraid that I'll become smaller too until I disappear.
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