I travelled across the states
searching for a feeling.
A feeling I knew I could feel
because I’d felt it once before
years before it all went downhill.
I knew the feeling in dreams,
in books, in shows, in movies,
but I’d be lying if I said I felt it anymore.
I know I’m not miserable,
I’m not hopeless or destined for failure,
but when the sun sets, what’s left?
I remember motivation like a childhood memory,
it’s a foggy feeling I can vaguely comprehend,
so I go on walks, I go on road trips,
I try new things in an effort to bring the feeling back.
Sometimes I wonder if the world wants me.