empire state of mind

I still can’t believe it.

opening you up, I still question if I am worthy.

still refreshing the admission page to see if it was actually an error.

24 hours told me that I know where im destined to be.

I already confirmed my admission, made new friends, ordered a hoodie,

and changed my bio. I can’t believe your abbreviation is there.

for the first time of my life, my dad finally understands my vision.

walking through the hallways when the voices say congratulations 

I doubt myself when I say “thank you.”

for four suns, I unconfidently told everyone you were my mission

what do I do now that you’re accomplished?

it all becomes meaningless. 

no longer having to wear a fluer-de-lis 

no longer having to push my pen on paper 

no longer having to slam my hand on a keyboard for thirteen other replacements

no longer having the drive to the other city anymore.

I have you now, and you have me.

I feel like a fraud.

scared of my talent won’t be enough to be compared to the ideal art kid.

scared of wearing the violet and the torch in my chest when I walk.  

scared of holding every opportunity in the world.

too much height, and now I’m afraid I’ll fall.

can we get much higher?

because now the dreams of money, power, and fame are actually obtainable

the dream of wearing a tuxedo in a front row,

or on stage in front of a deafening crowd

the dreams of a naive child who thought that’s what life only meant

after feeling the gaping hole in his heart for so long.

a dream where the artist kills the person.

whatever I do, I cannot let it go to waste,

this is success, but only beginning. this is talent, but just the start.