I just don’t know what to think.

I don’t know if I want to keep dreaming,

letting the butterflies fly around me

in a world I’ll never get to.

I know I’ll never go for it

I don’t know if I just want everything.

To be amazing.

To be perfect.

Or if I want perfection to die with a flame

I know I’m different.

I’m an Indian girl in an American world.

Coming from immigrants.

And I’m privileged.

It’s my biggest disadvantage.

I already have everything

Nothing is out of reach from my hands.

I hate that so damn much.

I hate me so damn much.

I’m overweight and overthought.

My passion is lying in the dust somewhere, maybe never to be found.

But the butterflies,

The butterflies just want

to

keep

flying.