Poem : The U Haul

I have ocean currents in the pit of my stomach.
Swirling till I feel my head spin.

I have ocean currents in the pit of my stomach.
Swirling till I feel my head spin.
I lose my balance as my nerves comes undone
This is a first real maybe.
Don’t turn it into a “May have been”.
My imagination races ahead of rationality
I’m guilty of the U-Haul
It feels like I’m going to crash head first into reality.
I am not sure of this at all.
Sway to the music of inner panic
It always led to something worthwhile
A little faith in this child so manic
Is required.
So let yourself fall this time.

About the author

the weird queer kid

Socially inept just-an-adult with creative ambitions. A master at internet stalking and creeping fellow humans out. Thinks too much. Writes poetry as such. Reading. Sketching. Mentally curating great hairstyles. Queer culture. Feminism. Food. Desperately seeking a remedy to her perennial awkwardness and obliviousness about *ahem*..love and stuff.