Everyone is searching for love
as if it’s the most important thing to own
And I’m here,
Still
Trying to find pieces of myself
Passions
Some sort of direction
No sir, I’m not lost
Just wandering
Fulfilling my lust
For non-office jobs
With feathers in my hair
No plans
And the bus driver as my chauffeur
My life is an open book
A letter I ripped apart
When I suddenly realized I didn’t like how it sounded
I may not know where to start
But I’m still here
Writing.