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Nervous

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My heart is racing, but my pencil is steady erasing. I can't describe how I feel, but here's the deal. I cry everyday, I say I don't wanna stay. But where will I go? Does Anyone know? I think about death, I think about life, then I think to myself. . . I have to write. I can't control it, I just let my hand go, and act like it knows the path, like it knows the math. . .but does it? Who knows, maybe one day there's going to be a day that it shows. One day that it shows the path, but as of now I can't figure out the math. I'm nervous, aren't you?



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