Comfort in Chaos

My alarm is blaring,
I jump up, my bed sheets tearing,
Off my tired and worn-out body,

With only minutes until I must go,
No time for steady and slow as I make myself ready to show.
Rushed and scattered moments fill my morning,
Starting my day with chaos from head to toe.

I run out the door and jump in the car,
Mind racing, thoughts pacing,
about the homework I didn’t do.
Stress overcomes me thinking about the disorderly reality I’m facing,
While I make my daily drive to school.

I arrive with only moments until the bell will ring,
No time to stop and smell the newly bloomed flowers of spring,
As I hurriedly make my way to class.

As I settle into my seat,
My head remains a clutter,
The sound of my fast heartbeat,
Drowns out my teacher’s voice to a mere utter.
Routinely, my eyes jump around the room,
Glancing at the people that surround me.


My sight fills with my clones,
clumps of identical, exhausted students,
who are all answering the teacher’s questions with uninterested monotones.
Everyone is trying their best to listen,
Fighting to resist the temptations of their phones.
This class isn’t exciting enough for them,
Every activity results in countless groans.

My eyes continue to pan,
Until she sticks out to me,
Causing me to stop my scan.
I often sit and observe her,
watching as she sits with her attention on the teacher.
She is always focused and engaged,
The only person with their computer invariably open to the right OneNote page.
She’s so put together, so easily satisfied.

I begin to think, “Why do I always find myself chasing for more?”
Longing for something more thrilling and interesting,
I wish I was as studious as her, why does this class bring me to a bore?

Every time I see her, envy fills my brain,
She seems so collected, so sane,
The exact opposite of me.
She’s a calm spring flower,
And I’m a winter storm’s rain.

I find myself constantly imagining if my life were hers,
jealously runs through my veins,
I sit and wonder what it would be like to play easier in life’s stressful games.
“How can I be like her?”
So orderly and plain,
“How do I change my hectic habits and make them tame?”

I spent years thinking like this.
Fantasizing about my perception of someone else’s life and its bliss.
I realize now, comparing my life to hers, was a waste of my time.
I’ve learned to grow satisfied and happy with mine.
I’ve grown to love my chaos,
The lifestyle of consistently on the go,
Makes everything more interesting,
Never boring or slow.


I’ve found pride in being crazy rain showers,
And stopped wishing to be the calm spring flowers,
As beauty is created through the combination of the two.

I’ve found comfort in my chaos.