Thoughts
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Thoughts
Written as I try
To sleep
With bizarre places
For new
Lines.
I lie in my bed,
the laptop open, my mind buzzing.
I think.
Who am I?
I look down and see that growth.
It's wrong. It's not meant to be there.
But it is.
It hurts to be who I am,
and it hurts not to be,
because even when I am,
I'm not.
Am I?
Am I just so fed up
with my life that I want to change it
to anything else?
Am I fed up with masochism?
Or masculinity?
Or am I really who I am not meant to be?
But I do not know.
So I lay down and wonder.
Who am I?
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This story is 120 words long.
