Simply existing

I used to write poetry but I never showed anybody, I just want it to not rot in my notebook

Young thing, poor thing,

you had no idea.

The grave world around you

of which you held so dear.

They kept a secret from you,

Oh yes it’s true

those who kept it all from you my dear,

led you straight to your tomb.

I feel crushed, like there is this giant weight on top of me. On one hand I want to do something, try to move this unbearable feeling. While at the same time, I’m afraid that if I change anything in the slightest, I’ll be crushed.

I feel like I’m just waiting for something exciting to happen and change my life. Like until that moment, nothing I do is important so I should spend all my time preparing for when something I do will actually mean something.