just call me seven


I’m Like the Crypt-Keeper.


What am I supposed to be doing with my life?
I feel like I’m stalled.
Like I’m just waiting for something.
Like I’m not actually living life.

I just had a birthday.
I’m now twenty-six.
That’s 26.
I feel old, a little.
But I live with my parents.
So I feel like a kid too.

Why isn’t life what I thought it would be?
I don’t understand.

This looks like it’s trying to be a poem.
This isn’t a poem.
I just feel abrupt.

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