Every Word I Lay
I shoved myself into the mold I thought I had to forever fit. Dream chasing wasn’t for me, stability was what I was told I should need. I come from a line of normalcy that no matter how much encouragement they show, I still feel like I’m failure to their linear trajectory. We’re proud of you. We love who you are. Be yourself. Be happy. That’s all we want for you in this world. Yet I can see the looks of their own confusion as they ask how this will work. I don’t think they would believe me until I’ve made it.
But I really don’t know how. I surround myself with those in a clear path. Their sense of confusion is this city or that and when. Yet I question my own future the most. I stare at the work I’ve done and scream at the sky above, wishing I could go back, love the job that would keep me on track. A clean salary, a rewarding life, honest work, a stability through the strife. But I sit here, still filled with panic, wondering if every word I lay down is a waste.