(Untitled)

Wise, 
but still lost,
And so far from being put together
I am impatient
and in a hurry,
ripping
and
running
from one place
to the other...
as if the place I have to be
is so much more
important than myself...
I want to love, 
and often love accidentally, 
but I'm very much afraid
And I've fallen so far off from religion, 
but I still try to pray
I can face a thousand storms through rage-though wounded
And I drink tea with angels
and take shots with devils, even
Inexact but incredible
And anxious but brave
Sweet but bitter
And rough to the touch
though my core is tender
And of all things I am, 
am very certain...
that
 I
am
still
meant
for something. 
For someone. 
For somewhere.

 -B.Elae