i don't have an intense bone in my body.

what ever it is that i used to have is gone.

like floating around the sahara.

nothing to quench my thirst.

i can't see ahead of myself.

and i'm stuck here for eternal damnation.

confused adn upset at my lack of understanding.

one day i will stop being a child.

i will grow up and be who they expect me to be.

but until then, i'm fine where i am.

except for all this confusion and frustration.

some how i accept the fact that i'm alone.

even though i know you are standing right there.

a key closing a gate, i have fled from you.

i let this feeling wash over me.

and it surprised me with how intense it is.

so i may not feel it,

but i am it.

just like every other story in my children's book.

a flower waiting to bloom into something bigger;

i too have to wait to become my full self.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i cannot write at the moment, like a giant wall of writers block...

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