love cookies

I laugh because I don’t want to cry. I smile because I don’t want you to know that I want to die. I listen because what I have to say I cannot put into words. I think because it’s easier than explaining what goes on in my head. I compare myself to the universe to ease my anxiety of society. I talk to myself because I’m afraid of not making sense to you. I paint because sometimes I want to escape my thoughts. I listen to music to relate. I write because it does make sense. I write because it’s what I know. I write because I’m comfortable with myself. I write down what I can’t seem to say to you. I write for a fear of silence, a fear of not understanding my own consciousness. I write because I know the paper won’t run away from my feelings.

Do I turn left, when nothing is right? Or do I turn right, when there’s nothing left?