A tiny home

I push and pull the boundaries I scream and yell and stomp my feet but nothing is giving way nothing is moving. 
I listen to the professor go on about topics we have already covered
I listen to a classmate say how much she hates the world
I listen to my friends doubt themselves because society is too unknown
I listen to strangers and they gossip about the local dog missing 
I listen to the winds in the trees; I can't fully understand their language 
Sadness creeps in and I turn to my bones to ground me.
I listen to the earth below my feet and I can hear a whisper
I can hear the water moving below my body
Moving below the soil
The blue veins calling out to my red veins.
The water moving through my body like a secret. 
I step to my left and the voices stop. 

I'm cut off. 
Left alone in this wooded isolation
Listening to doubt and worry and cynicism 
I cover my ears I wasn't made to be cynical
Nobody was made to be cynical
The world is hard enough without hope
So don't crush others people dreams with the harsh reality that is crushing yours. You don't know what they are capable of. 
I am capable of impossible things 
I can and will 
Watch me