*Warning: more cursing than usual
Every damned minute
Worried that I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing
I'm not writing that fucking stupid 'if you don't know yourself, you're not worthy' essay I need to write
And it's bad
yeah, that's right, bad
('cause who the hell knows 'themself' anyway)
'cause my life depends on that shit
I should be making that hypocritical presentation
The one that wants me to creatively design
How I changed the world in a future
That obviously hasn't fucking happened
Make it funny, make it beautiful, make me worth it
Yet this same thing,
the reason I have to make this stupid PowerPoint because I'm oh so fucking stable and have my whole life planned out
The same thing is supposed to lead me to find my passion
How the hell does that work uhn?
If I knew exactly how that future is going to work,
Exactly what passion I "explored" to change this fucked up world
why the hell do I need you then?
You just want me to dream uhn?
Well, I'm done dreaming!
This is my life, the real deal
Not a damn pilot episode of a fairytale!
Whatever wants to happen, needs to happen now
Not in the future
& definitely not just in that bright happy place
that's my imagination.
My future depends on that shit
And even worse
My hope of ever getting away from my so called 'family'
depends on that
So I have to do it
Just right now
I don't want to have to think about that
Can I just not have to worry about that?
Can I just cry for something else
feel terrible for some other reason
something that matters
something that decides whether I live or die
Some reason that's not about changing the world
holding it together
But about keeping me from falling apart
Your time is running out
Like hell I don't know that
And like hell I don't want to just run out of time already
The time of all times
The real time that can actually fucking run out.
A word is such a vague way of defining oneself, is it not? What's in a word that I may use one to describe me, I wonder? Perhaps I should use a flower or the description therein to define me. I have to give ample credit to the Bard of Avon, Shakespeare, for the possibility of such as he said it best when he wrote, "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet "
Yes, after further contemplation, perhaps a blue violet flower is what would best describe me if I were to use a flower for such. I have always gravitated to a rich, vivid blue color, surrounding myself with as much of the color as possible, so perhaps I am defined by the color - or the word - blue. Blue is a calming color but full of a vibrancy that’s seen all about us in the skies, the butterflies, the oceans, the flowers, and the birds. I like to think that I am able to flit and fly about in the vast world, emboldened by all of nature that hums and beats around me. After all, we are one with the blue universe, much more than we often realize.
So, this very day, I will pick the deepest and most royal blue color to define myself, knowing I have chosen well and will be most content. Thus, going forward, I am forevermore defined by the word cyanic, the bluest of blues.
Letting go of my grief is an impossible task
The heavy weight wraps wires around my heart
dragging my soul out of my chest every time I think of you.
How you illuminated every room you stepped into
Memories of driving down desolate streets in the dead of night
A temporary technique used to vanish reality
Only when dawn replaced midnight
Would we return
the grief and the guilt take turns toying with me
until I am nothing but a blank page stained by a speck of dark ink
Until the ink is absorbed into every atom of my being
I am consumed entirely
Forever wondering why it wasn't me
but you who had to leave.
Your Celestial memory
Those beautiful seconds and spectacular minutes... When I searched the corners of my eyes to find you, when my lips spelt your name in ways words can't tell.
When I touched you and felt what it was like to be felt by you too,
when my face produced a thousand smiles in a hundred seconds like I was enchanted.
When your hair that is coveted by the angels brushed my skin lightly.
Those little moments when I mattered to you too.
I know I shouldn't hold on to what is not, but how can I when that's all I've known to live for?
I know I shouldn't hold on to what is not, but how can I, when that's all I've known to live for?
Childhood is like a mirage to me right now when I am turning 17 going to highschool things changed suddenly before a year the life was tension free with lots of fun with friends but now I am seeing it all going no matter what I do I can be a kid anymore I am loosing my innocence I am understanding a brief distance of what's right or wrong and worry of my choices was eating me inside everyone suddenly become busy and I am fully exposed to the world day by day I am going away from my childhood .The things I did as a kid the time I wasted are becoming precious memories of me but I wanted more of these days but I can't get it I can't be child anymore I know I can't be that kid who was always happy and careless that's why I have to let go of my childhood but I don't want to it's just like it is there but like illusion.
I'm holding on to a love of yesterday.
A love so strong, I thought it would never fade away.
A memory of a partnership that was joined between two.
A sudden wind with a fragrance reminded me of the who.
This feeling that sinks into my soul, is a rapid reminder in my mind.
This memory of yesterday haunts me, wraps me in bundles like twine.
I want to be awakened early one day and notice that the love has faded away.
loving the wrong person
his laughter, sharp and bright
filling the air with the love inside it,
reaching out to keep me in its confines
it was love, i am sure.
i am almost sure.
was it love?
her body on top of mine,
filling the air with a sharp tension
i had never before felt
such a rush
like a gasp of life when your head comes out of the water
she was a stranger
he was my friend
it was not love with her
but it was certainly not wrong
loving him was
fast cars and loud music and quick motions
battling to prove ourselves in the circus of life
loving him was not wrong
but it was not right for me either
he loved me more
than i ever could have returned
because my body and mind betrayed me
and i ran him through the rings
in the circus of life
just so i could discover that i was wrong
There was him.
He wasn't what everyone thought he was.
He was everything that everyone thought he wasn't.
There was they.
There was a "they" to him, but nothing but a him to her.
She thought she loved him.
He knew he loved her.
There was fear.
A fear that developed slowly, but not expressed.
It kept her coming back.
There was the fear of leaving and the fear of staying.
There was it.
It was hard to describe, a barely noticeable manipulation.
It was so microscopic, it made her think it didn't exist.
He made her think it didn't exist.
There were punches.
A car hit so deeply it felt like it was her.
The last time the fear of staying outweighed the fear of leaving.
There was time.
A final decision to use time and space to bring her back.
Time to start again, so she did.
There was her.
She wasn't what everyone thought she was then
She was what she thought everyone wanted her to be.
But now, she's free.