Trying to make sense of it all, doing the best that I can. I want to let go, to be okay, to understand.

That there is no end in this, no need to hold onto some moving target. I don’t know; do I want to be alone? Do I know what I want? I don’t know.

I think I have an idea, but what we want changes, right?

Hold up. I just want to be here. To feel like me.

I want to lay in a field without looking for something to hold onto.

Some sense of self or a bar to try and reach, because when I don’t reach high enough, I feel defeat.

Like I didn’t give my all, when all I want is to lay in a field of grass and sleep.

My mind runs and I try to keep up by writing down the words, the thoughts, the lessons, the stories; because it’s what I love.

Is there time to take a break or time to heal; is there right or wrong, or is there any sense at all?

Is a smile all that makes sense; ya, that’s it.

It’s okay to feel all types of ways that seldom make any sense. It’s okay to be angry or hurt and want to sit with it for a while. I’m ready to sit and stay for a day.

Control is an illusion when there’s nothing to control.

To lay in the grass so my spirit can rest. That sounds good.