Isn't it the point?
Written Works
Isn't the point of living to find connection, then why am I scared?
Small, I already made it clear
Living in my tiny corner
Thinking, how did I get here?
Breathe, my lung. Heart, pump and love
Heavy breathing, yet slowly
Too scared to be push to shove
Afraid to show and do tell
Accept it or delete it,
Or let spoil like food that swell.
World is neither small nor vast
Mistakes are bound to occur
But it doesn't need to last.
Is not timed, but why ticking
And why am I overwhelmed?
Simple, yet needed thinking
How's this life I've been threading?
Life in quiet solitude,
Is not a life worth living