7 p.m thought

What if I’ll forget how to draw? 

Forget how to write and swim just like i forgot how to sing.

What if I’ll fail and won’t be able to be what they all expect me to be?

What if I’m not able to be that, to be what they need.

What if I’ll fail and dissapoint not only them but mostly myself. 

Because if I’m not the smart one, the creative one, who will I be?

Who will I be when I’ll forget everything about myslef?

Who will I be when I’ll completely lose myslef in this endless cycle of expectations.

I’m scared that by trying to fit in I already lost the me in myslef, and its just a body without a soul, a garden without flowers.

And by standing alone I realize that I don’t even have my own identity.

I’m a jigsaw made out of pieces that I take from every person i meet, from every sunset I see, from every single thing I love. 

And what will I do with those pieces that just remind me of everything I lost.

And I wish I could forget but I also don’t want to. 

Because even if it hurts- this pain is the only memory I have left from you. 

And I say I hate you but yet you’re still my 

7 p.m thought. A thought that never leaves.

Now this thought is another part of me