I’m a dreamer.
Thats a fact.
I used to be an optimist, but somewhere along the way that faded to pessimism.
I miss the old me. The always positive & smiling me.
I know you can choose if you want to be happy. & every day I try to choose it.
But I’m too sensitive for the world. My heart is too big. I’m still too innocent.
The world looks on this as a terrible curse. I agree with them, outwardly.
But on the inside I wonder if that’s true.
I like to think that I’d never be sad or have such troubles if everyone was like this.
I seem to have retained the thin skin of a child.
Of someone that spends days imagining worlds & creating friends.
Of someone that thinks everything is beautiful & wants to share it.
But no one besides me wants to share secrets.
No one besides me cares if others are sad.
No one besides me seems to really dream any more.
My dreams have turned to nightmares.
My internal sunshine is now covered in storm clouds.
The child in me is hiding away, crying.
I just want someone to take my hand and show me that everything is as it should be.
I want everything to be the way I dream it to be.
Because I’m still a child. And I’ll always be.