Where Did Solid "Me" Go?

Sometimes my tears are tired of hiding

Tears of remorse

of confession

of regret

of understanding

of joy

of pain

of confusion

of wanting

of cold

of sleep depravation

I tuck them inside the corners of my eyes and pretend that they are not there.

But the thickness in my airway can't be driven back. I want to run faster than anyone could. I want to jump over a overhanging branch of impossible hight and hide in a trees arms. I want to swallow my ambition and lust for life and pretend it is not there. I want to leave my self behind in my past.

But the tears can't be stopped. I wish I could decide many things:

Which of the two great guys I fall for,

what events I will run for track,

if I will ever feel anything other than fear when I look on the face of love,

if I will ever get that chance,

if I will make it to state for my next season,

what people I will hang out with,

what I want to remember,

if I am a forgiving person or not.

Sometimes I hate being a hormonal teenage girl. But that is probably because I am chemically low right now and I will love the life I have soon enough. The inconsistency of it all threatens to stifle me. I wish I was not easily irritated.

Who am I, if I no longer have a team to lead?