the child in me wanted to touch stars
now i fear looking up into the nightthe little girl i was read too much
now i grow weary of too many lettersi look for things to fill my pocket
instead of things to fill my souli think of survival in a capital of greed
than happiness in a world of wonderi don't want this
i don't want this
let there be ware on my bones
and sullen age in my old eyes
if that is the price of pursing dreams
at the end of a fulfilled life
YOU ARE READING
Symptoms of Starlight | Poetry
Poetry"you've been brushed by the need for something greater, your head waits for a crown." In which a girl writes down everything from 2 am thoughts to afternoon drabbles to empowering poems in hopes it all means something.