Twisted

The clock ticks

 and I watch as
 time withers away,
 my mind already
 spinning through the
 countless possibilities.
 Through all the could bes
 and the wannabes
 that have fallen
 like the autumn leaves.
 I am stuck,
 not sure of what
 direction to push for,
 to move toward
 not cognizant enough
 to realize that not
 everything relies on me.
 I watched frazzled
 as the hands move closer
 to that magic number
 and can’t help but wonder
 when will I be set free
 of all these expectations
 that are as suffocating
 as a million limitations.
 When will I be set free
 and let off this
 pedestal fettering me
 to this twisted
 perception of perfection.
–Nora Melendez

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