My life is a story of how I wasn't meant to be raised

Im in search of somewhere I belong.
like it hasn't been coming this long for me to figure out the correct pattern, formation of those words.

Wish I had a nice cellphone that would let me blog on the go.
I lose a lot of my thoughts to time spent on the highway.

Because I was thinking about love. And fitting in. And what it means to
sell yourself out in order to be loved.
Or at least liked.

Working twice as hard to only get half as far. As myself mostly.

Is it a problem that I overwhelm people in all aspects?
I have a she that claims it's a problem for her.
Another she says I act up a lot.
But how can you reject someone speaking with their own tongue?

For one second that Saturday night I went black.
A ting of dread spawned tendrils impaling my mind, like a tapeworm burrowing further into my system.
I want to write what I thought about, but it seems too early to disclose.
And that is a true shame that foreshadows a growing threat:

I can't even tell a secret in my public vault.

Later Days, Longer Nights 

Are you ready for another bad poem?

Because I'm just another 20 year old that can't figure it out

How to find the fine line between success and giving up

I could talk more

But writing seems best

That way I can complain

Without anyone hearing a single thing

Planning party Olympics and EDM trips

Those places where I can just jump up and down

No one judges

No one cares

We can make out on the dance floor

No one cares

I'm dancing in this place

With no rhythm to my frame

And I'll wake up with a fun story to tell

But none of my problems fixed

 Some day it'll work my way

Later Days, Longer Nights

Constantly

Constantly, I feel like I'm not a constant in many people's lives.

It's the Amtrak, Megabus, and (most notably) Greyhound trips that make this so
And when I think I've found a home
My bed explodes
My bathroom vanishes
Anything I could've owned becomes no more
So it's back to the road

When you can do anything in the world
Options seem like a very constricting fate
No one giving you directions
Just you and a school computer
Printing out your next destination

Tickets and transfers and layovers
I can't even go buy a drink legally to sift my thoughts through these travels

Constantly, I don't feel like a constant in other people's lives
Constantly

Later Days, Longer Nights