Dear Pine cone,
How do people easily let go?
How am I a discarded bag floating in the wind
To every boy I have ever loved?
Do you feel the rawness in the truths
That are difficult to swallow like I do?
Going insane trying to find anyone who cares
While self absorption is rampant.
Sometimes I walk where the curb ends
And I think I am happier gripping on
To my aloneness.
I fell so far from the stars. I tried to claw my way back
Not realizing I am composed of star dust.
What’s the point of letting go,
When nothingness is all there ever was
Between you and all the boys you ever loved?