I never depend on anything, yet I depend on too much.
I’m entirely too confident, yet I need the Midas touch.
I’m dripping charisma, but only approachable sometimes.
I wear my heart on my sleeves, soul, you can see it through my eyes.
I’m aware of all my sublime.
I’m aware of my truth.
It hurts but it’s due.
I’m paying costs I never bargained for, but legacy had it in for me.
I’m crying my Valentines and believing lullabies.
I’m hardly proof that there’s still Sunshine.
I’ve articulated dedication and beyond conversation, but you wouldn’t know it by the impression I’m staking.
Who’s world is it anyway?
Is it mine?
Am I a tourist?
Am I youthful and juvenile in anything I’m pursuing?
Is it that sometimes when the sun rises, I’m five seconds from nickle diming at the expense of all I’ve endeavored…
Both hands on the lever.
I’m critical to a fault.
I’m sensitive, even naught.
I’m categorically candid, I imagine outlandish.
Do you believe you are who you think?
Serious thoughts, no blink.
Do you satisfy your own Mastermind, do you wink when you clink?
What they’ll never tell you is you’re always sailing to –
The best parts of you but sit a while and take notice.
Keep genius in the highest glance, move slow, take a chance.