lack of

prosperity

it's in the grand scheme of things.
as in, not shattered apart into different land masses,
everything is stuck together like a puzzle with mod podge.
it's the sonder feeling of looking out amoung a crowd, and realizing that terrifying fact that everyone can see you.
being irrational as i don't know what i look like, but have seen my own eyes in the mirror.
it's an isolated waste land, the land of fresh mud.
rich in rocks and smaller pebbles, not rich in flavor.
droopy in the exterior, yet white as fresh snow when taking a good, closer look.
although, the green ring towards the pupil has never existed because my eyes are brown like my sun-faded shoes.
swimming around extreme waterfalls because the crash of water is scary,
and also because there are volcanoes in the ocean.
i'm pretty sure i am mostly afraid of the dark, but sometimes the prosperous thunder can get to me.
equally as terrifying is the breaking of the solar system around my wrist.
i have always been quite the neutral person, but the planets, stars, and all that have kept me grounded.
when i'm lost i start to float to things i love most,
which is up in the sky, oh those pretty masses of gas.
oh how they are committed to stay around for longer than my lifetime, but eventually exploded from too much pressure.
i wish i acted as the stars, kind of wish i was a star.
prosperous in light, and rich in motivational believing.
maybe if i believed in more than the sky with no one in it, and a moon that dances- maybe i wouldn't float so much.
believing leads to hope and i barely believe in existence itself.
i barely have time to count the trees that are rich with all their green leaves.
see, it's a different type of green that surrounds me when discussing such topics as what i am.
it's not as lively as a grand, full-grown sprout.
it's more of the whole scheme of greens mixed together into the coldest thing ever felt.
it's not very comfortable.
but puzzle pieces frighten me because i don't know where they came from.
how do you even make a puzzle piece.
is it card board? it for sure smells like it.
this isolated room smells like the mod podge-glue mixture that will fix absolutely no part of my broken mind.
it is in fact prosperous with  absolutely nothing.
most of the time i have no idea what i think, but pangea sometimes.
pangea is such a holy concept.
but, in the grand scheme of things such as nature,
everything falls apart with too much rotten glue.

December 23rd, 2019