I feel like a ticking bomb, a girl who’s unaware of why she feels how she does every day. I feel brokenhearted but I’ve never been in love. I feel sad as I laugh and cry. I feel rejected from all my goodbyes. I love to dance, let things go. I want be a writer, recognized in homes. I want to be read by future generations, pondered over, known as a sensation. I want it all. But none of that could make me happy. I have everything in front of me, what’s painful is what’s inside of me.