thoughts
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Fantasy kissing the cheek of reality was the birth of my mania. The innate beauty of life is addicting to me, and I underestimate the pain that comes with it. I forget the company Pain keeps— how Loneliness is a friend of a friend, and just as deadly. Those two make the world feel foreign.
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I’m used to this feeling. Moving on doesn’t hurt so much anymore. My feet stopped dragging last month. My lungs no longer feel on the verge of collapse. I think you conditioned a certain kind of break— somewhere between my kisses and hers. The realization hit quietly: wanting something—someone—too badly can take the fun out
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My biggest fear is loneliness. Family, faith, lovers— have all left at a time. I even tried to leave myself. I’m worse than any ghost, haunting old places in my mind, forming a home in the crypt that occupies my heart. Nostalgia is a disease that hinders me. But my memories are where my angels
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I want to know what you are thinking. Your thoughts are friends to my own. You’re a parable for my heart and a quiet dream in my mind. Your charm allows room for discussion and it’s admirable even with your faults. You hold your emotions behind your eyes, so do not demonize me for falling.
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My mind is miles before me and I feel so out of body. Repetitive in my actions obsessing over a routine that does not seem to fit. Chasing myself weighed down by my breath, the words that live on my lips refuse to be a part of written truth. Anxiety whispers to me, to believe
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I don’t have to say much to feel. You understand my silence as music, and when you speak, I do not miss a beat. I contemplate my desire for you, suppressing it beneath my desperate need for simplicity. I don’t need you to make me happy, or to fix a part of me. I am
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For some, the lips only speak what the tongue allows. The eyes say more— but I trust only the walk. How deliberate are your steps, that when you move, I believe you’ve left? We paint with frivolous words. But our actions— they’re the only things we ever commit to, no matter the condition. And our
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Will you still make me seem foolish amid your lack of interest? I gain nothing with uncertainty, maybe that’s why I have grown bored with games. Regardless of the time, I still respect you. I still see you in a light of your own. I still think you’re intriguing or whatever word that fits. I’ve reprimanded myself for treating
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If you hear me grant me peace for a minute. I can not live with this chaos. I am a dim flame that dances to keep others warm. Do you understand? Do you even care? Is my voice like the morning birds singing their tune; do you listen for your amusement? If we are to believe; we
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The sound of the ivories being played lifts attention to my beating heart. The melody so sweet and without charm pierces my senses. I sing out into an open space, finding myself in a clearing where my wilted flowers lie. A once beautiful meadow built for color and life. I blame the sun, the moon,
Wishful Thinking 