Existentialism

haha randomness at its best.

The most ironic part of all,

Is getting to where I’m supposed to be

And realize that the nervousness I feel

Is not mine at all,

But someone else’s…. other than me.

And then I stop to think…

Who could this be?

This stranger living inside of me…

Living in my shape, wearing me like a suit…

Who is this person controlling me like this?

Author's Note

Poetic devices stuck inside a drowsy head,
Pretending I feel and I know the easiest way...
Bring in a super-sized fan,
To blow away the fog
That shouldn't be here.