Senior Year

I'm 17 and brimming with life yet afraid of the future

I'm oscillating back and forth between passion and distraction

or experiencing both simultaneously

I've convinced myself I know everything and yet the more I learn the less I know

I am bitterly guffaw at the state of humanity but smile involuntary at grinning infants

because pure innocence is so overwhelming

I regard myself as an expert about things I could never fully understand

I crave spontaneity but fall into routine because I've yet to learn the ways of the land

I am confident but still glance discontentedly at my reflection in the mirror

because the truth is hard to face and lies are written all over my face

I demand respect but dish it out assiduously  

I'm erratic and kind and probably smiling what you fail to realize is how hard I am trying

I'm walking the thin line between vanity and self loathing obviously guilty of both

I desire sincerity but cannot escape my own irony and sarcasm

I throw rocks from my glass house, I'm the pot calling the kettle black

I have loved and lost or perhaps never loved at all

I have cried for no reason but for every reason there is

The more I learn about myself the less of you all I like

I reek of misguidance curiosity and plight

I don't feel a thing about a thing in this life

Except everything at all, at this point I've hit a wall,

Constantly rerouting myself I stay doubting

I’m trying not to be nothing at all