Staring

I don’t know if I like you.

I don’t know if you like me.

I don’t know if we even have a chance.

I don’t know why you text me.

I don’t understand us.

Why are we like this?

Why have I been staring at this ceiling believing it’ll give me all the answers?

Gosh if only I knew what was going on inside my own head.

I just wish I had all the answers in the world,

and I wish I knew if he liked me.

If only I could read minds and find out if he likes me or only texts me because he’s bored.

This ceiling won’t tell me what to expect or what people feel.

The ceiling has nothing to tell me.

Only that I am clueless about my life.