I am inadequate.
Continuously reaching for shooting stars
Too far to even see,
I’ve convinced myself I feel them.
I feel stars, billions of light years away,
Calling my name and begging me
To catch them as if in a game
Of hide and seek?
They must be very good at hiding.
I guess.
I hope.
I hope not.
I’m clueless;
Not knowing where to go,
What to aim for,
Or who to love.
I’m a hypocrite
Advising…everyone.
I know how it should be
But I can’t…"be".
Inadequate
