I drown in thoughts and get swallowed by fear.
An everlasting volume of chance seems endearing,
yet so frightening.
Are we afraid of change
or the idea of crashing and burning?
Artists.
They are the happiest sad people.
They are the ones who choose to feel,
to tap into their inner sadness.
They choose to allow their emotions to take over,
all for the art.
They don't drown in self pity,
they live off their depressive behaviors.
Their recklessness is for the passion,
not from denial.
Not from their need to liberate themselves from social constructs.
Not from inner hatred and self disapproval.
It's because they love themselves,
because they know who they are and what they want to be.
Artists aren't suppressed,
they are free.
It's as if you know how to control me,
to get under my skin,
and use it as a weapon.
You design your actions with spite,
you select words with backlash,
you develop intentions with deceit.
You choose to do everything in your power to control my mind.
Because you know very well that I can't myself.
You know how to take the mangled mess of thoughts and emotions in my soul,
and continue to tie knots only you can unravel.
It's because you know that I can't take it anymore,
you twist the knife as you dig a little deeper.
It was a deafening silence
in the room
where two people who loved each other
stood staring at one another.
Both at a loss for words,
muddled with confusion and disappointment.
Knowing there was no right action
for relieving the tension.
In the end,
there is only one option.
She brought out the best in you
and before she brings out the worst,
let her go and let me catch you.
I wish I could say the right words,
to take the pain away.
I'm at a loss for words but all I want to say is
"forget her, remember me."
Not everyone is going to believe in you…
and that's okay.
If you believe in yourself,
someone somewhere will do so too.
For what seems like an eternity,
is actually just a second.
Every second with you I experience an eternity.
Time is jumbled in my head.
But when I am with you,
it's not just time.
When I'm with you,
I can't think straight
but everything seems right.
Seems perfect.
Seems real.
I see life in your eyes.
Talking to you is like punching a brick wall.
It leaves you with only cuts,
Bruises,
And the feeling of emptiness.
Honey,
The tire in your eye,
it can never dull the glow in your heart.
Just breathe.
When I was younger,
I would crawl into my parents bed at night with worry that the sun wouldn't rise again the next morning.
Worried that life could end in the blink of an eye.
At the time, I was worried about never having a first kiss,
never going to prom
or having a first dance with the boy I liked.
At this time, I have so many other worries
and when I look at the big picture,
those worries are all just irrelevant.
Because in the grand scheme of life,
they should never be worries.
Now I know the sun will rise in the morning,
I know what it is like to have my first kiss,
and to go to prom and to dance with the boy.
And instead of worrying, I should wonder.
I should dream of the next milestone and not fret about anything that could go wrong.
I've spent my life worrying and I now choose to live instead.
There were will lives taken to soon
that will miss the best moments of life.
They will lose innocence,
time,
the chance to breathe.
They will lose all of it in a blink of an eye in a place they felt safest.
We must mourn,
fight
and speak.
We must live and dream for those who no longer can themselves.
2/14/2018
