Trebuchet MS

Stuck.
Because
this
is
not
how
I
wanted
my
poetry
to
be.
I guess I’m back at square one.
Will I ever make it to square two?
You are
who I want to be.
And you are
who I want to look like.
And you are
who I want to love.
If you read this would you think I was crazy again?
I am not satisfied with my own existence.
Would I be satisfied with yours?
I want so much more than what I’ve been handed.
Is this God telling me to never be comfortable?
I feel so small in this great big place.
I’m desperate for people to love me.
Even though God loves me enough.
I want to trust you again.
Especially because you act how I wanted you to act.
Why?
It feels funny to know that I have to go to work tomorrow.