I will never be like them.
Palms up to the glass,
What does it feel like to be on the other side?
What is it like to be wanted?
To be talented?
To always be the one.
I am frozen,
But I am running.
It has been six years, and I still haven’t gotten anywhere.
It’s always the same people, just a different face.
I have never understood how to be anything other than an onlooker.
Every time I have gotten so close,
I somehow end up even further from where I started.
Where do I go from here?
When one door closes,
Another door opens.
But then sometimes, the handle sticks.
The key breaks in the lock.
The alarms are tripped,
Blaring and blasting the song of my defeat.
Broadcasting to the world that once again,
She is wrong.
She has failed.
She is nothing.
They always say you can make something out of nothing.
But I have been nothing for so long.
It’s starting to feel like a second skin.