I think I live in an utter state of confusion.
I want to talk to you, but I don’t want to talk to you.
I was the one who told you not to talk to me, but now I wish you would despite.
I want to soak up what the world has to offer, but I don’t want to leave my bed.
I want someone to take charge of my life, but I hate the idea of not being in charge of my own life.
I want to go home, but I don’t know where home is.
I want to not be confused and conclude that I like you, but the idea of acknowledging my feelings scares the shit out of me.
Then again, I like to think I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I take pride in being not easy.
I think I get charged from positive energy and optimism, but I also seem to revel in self-pity and angsty shit.
I love being alone, but I like intimacy.
I self-reflect a lot, but I’m scared of my own thoughts.
And some days, it makes me cry, really hard.