it all boils down to the fact that i just want to be wanted

the nature of it all is that I’m just sixteen

i’m not a world renowned writer, artist, soul

the world view me simply and praise upon my complexity

that, then they have to deal with the consequences of loving me

i’m a fascination, until you have to understand me

i’m revolutionary, until I eventually die out

i’m a friend to all and a friend to none

I elaborate in big words and complex ideology when all’s there to throw is being wanted

being seen

where I found myself special enough to look at but never to heard

it all boils down to the fact that I just want to be wanted

that’s all i’ve really even been doing

the thousand miles i’ve ran to keep up on what’s authentic

the versions of me i’ve lost and found

and ones i’ve passed down

i’m too young to be bound

but, my age will soon not be interesting enough

the fear it brought forth is as big as Saturn

next leap year i’ll be twenty

then maybe all I can write about is aging

and everything will still boil down to wanting