You're No One

you don't have to say it—

I can see the truth blaring

like a siren reeling in your eyes.

you have every right

to think your thoughts

and plan your schemes.

you think I'm a hack,

wasting words on a screen,

and maybe some agree with you.

you tell me there's no point—

"you're just one of a billion"—

and money's not the half of it.

you don't care about the stories

bearing down on me each day

and craving to be told and shared.

"you don't need to write,"

"you need to get a real job,"

and, my favorite, "you're just dreaming."

you think it's just about the pennies

collecting like nothing but fluff

at the bottom of a virtual jar.

you don't see a thing wrong

about beating me down

with so much petty scorn.

you wonder why I never share

these words buried in a box

for only the strangers to consume.

you make me feel like no one,

like a hapless fraud or imposter,

who's just free-falling before the crash.

you won't be there to pick up

all the remnants of these dreams,

but I'll have to live with them.