teenage dreamer

I tried to smoke a cigarette today
to feel like a teenage dreamer
wanting a life with some other
or a silly romance
based on nothing but desire

The smoke of the cigarette hit my lungs
I recoiled and coughed as I tasted the tar on my tounge
I stared at the cigarette as the rain hit my face
I watched it burn - 
until I felt too bad
to continue wasting it

I'm not sure what more I desire
I often feel whole,
as if all my problems have somehow just gone home
decided it's all a waste
the continued torture leaving a poor taste
but every so often
I feel so incomplete
I'm left needing something
something more
to make me once again whole,
to finish the puzzle of who I am
to make waking up feel nice
and every step not yet another chore

I try to find it through love,
I often fantasize
about someone taking me off my feet
kissing me and adoring me
I know very well that it's all a dream
that when I was loved I threw it all away
It made me feel as incomplete as ever
the texts from my lover feeling not like a tremor
but instead a somewhat nudge
a nudge towards happiness,
culminating in pain and shame
shame towards the desires I couldn't declaim

I tried everything to bring myself back,
to not lose that nudge
in the pit I had buried myself in,
I realised that, while no tremor,
even the slighest nudge was graceful
even the slighest push was helpful
and even the smallest smile was now painful

It reminded me of what I'd thrown away
What I had adored, now a distant figure in the horizon
as the town in which we grew pulled away
the pain had returned and a loneliness unlaid

I was left alone once again
and for weeks on end I had nothing to my name
I felt so alone and ashamed
I felt so scared
So scared that it'd all hit me one day
All my past mistakes and all that I'd lost
All that I could've had if I had not felt so crossed

But through these fears I had faced, I also grew
I looked inwards and came to face the shitty truth
that only I can show myself the love that I desire
and so I did, with no distaste

And I've learnt that to be incomplete is to be whole
as it is as human as to be bored
or to cry, or to desire,
or to be angry or sad
to feel joy and feel pain

I've learnt that I have been searching for what doesn't exist
To feel content all the time is so paradoxical 
that it is an idea destined to die
I now adore all my feelings
my sadness is no longer my bane
it is a part of me, just as hapiness as well

After covering myself in scars,
After being hurt,
After fearing every day of being alive
I have come to the end of the path
I have discovered where true hapiness lies.
                

I wish I could say this is the ending of the anthology, that I had found some sort of enlightement; but unfortunatley, I am human. This was a peak that I certainly enjoyed, but it doesn't change the fact that there are 5 poems to go.