Quiet Desperation

And miles of quiet desperation to go before I sleep...

I need something to happen.
I want to stop stealing the words of others
and to form my own.
I have to muster the courage to bring about change.

I just feel like I'm standing here.
Waiting for something to happen.
For a shift in the gravitational pull of Earth
so I can float up, up, and away.

But nothing happens.
And days turn to weeks turn to months.
Sometimes I think I'm locked up;
doomed to eternity in this two-star town.
But I'm stealing other people's words again.

Desperation can only be quiet for so long
before it bursts forth and bleeds out,
leaving smears of red anguish in its wake.
Desperation was a creature made to scream.

And so I strut, and fret, and continue to steal more genius vocabulary than my own.
Waiting for something to happen, too frightened to kick start it myself.
Three hundred and sixty six new days are waiting at the threshold
And maybe this year I'll bring about the change I wish to see in the world.