I am not heard by even the most desperate listeners. my name is not important because it is mine and not yours. I dream of a world that I will live with no cares. i wont cry over stupid egoistical males, and i wont feel subjected to be something i'm not. i found out who i was while i sat under this maple tree with my friend Will. he's full of life and i wish i had that ambition. i looked up at the sky and it wasn't white with sprakles of blue trim. it was grey and misplaced just like me. i am the black sheep of this toxic existence. everyday i get critized for speaking my thoughts and my thoughts speaking. i am but a women i have no thoughts they say, but as a secret from me to you. i have many thougths, about changing this world. call me a secret, call me things that are not even real. i am not real, you are not real I have come to realize nothing is real. I am not heard by even the most desperate of listeners and my name is not important because it is mine and not yours.