supersonic
Bluelighter
So just so ya know this is pure fiction, only one of the ways I could feel, but I don't.
I'm tired of you telling me to hold on, because really its getting harder and harder to cling onto these razorblades.
I'm so sick of this hope its the only thing stopping me from excepting these burning coals beneath my feet its the reason I lift one foot for a second to only return it into its painful habitat.
I'm fed up with all these other peoples problems they're all so damn selfish and really I'm selfish too, and I want people to pity me because then at least I'll be seen, but really ya know when we go home into our little empty beds and peer at that stupid ceiling those stupid nicks, and pieces of paint that have peeled, or those glowing stars, we only peer at ourselves.
I've just about had it with the silence and all the cute introspection it can offer cause there are only so many revelations to be made until we realize what silly little spirals we travel in, like the double helix, like entropy, like everything spiraling down, how far do we get to ride it, how far will it go and part of us wants it to last forever, and part of us wants it to stop, to die, just like love, like everything.
And as far as love is concerned oh well HA!
I gave up on using others to tell me how amazing I am, I stopped torturing their emotions, so they wouldn't wonder what every action I do has to trigger their insecurities, I stopped wondering who would dominate and play the others card and kiss a stranger to taste a new wine. I stopped wondering when it would end, or how I would end it, or if those eyes I had peered into for so long had gone a different shade of green and that the package was the same but its contents had changed into something that wasn't even love anymore. After all if you're only suppossed to fall in love with certain people and that certain person changes then whose to say it is love anymore.
I just about let my fingers give way to the bliss of the freefall the wonder and splendor of losing it all but you caught me or maybe it was suppossed to be that I had to uncover my eyes to see, that you were waiting open arms to catch me.
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If anything I do drugs to appreciate reality.
I'm tired of you telling me to hold on, because really its getting harder and harder to cling onto these razorblades.
I'm so sick of this hope its the only thing stopping me from excepting these burning coals beneath my feet its the reason I lift one foot for a second to only return it into its painful habitat.
I'm fed up with all these other peoples problems they're all so damn selfish and really I'm selfish too, and I want people to pity me because then at least I'll be seen, but really ya know when we go home into our little empty beds and peer at that stupid ceiling those stupid nicks, and pieces of paint that have peeled, or those glowing stars, we only peer at ourselves.
I've just about had it with the silence and all the cute introspection it can offer cause there are only so many revelations to be made until we realize what silly little spirals we travel in, like the double helix, like entropy, like everything spiraling down, how far do we get to ride it, how far will it go and part of us wants it to last forever, and part of us wants it to stop, to die, just like love, like everything.
And as far as love is concerned oh well HA!
I gave up on using others to tell me how amazing I am, I stopped torturing their emotions, so they wouldn't wonder what every action I do has to trigger their insecurities, I stopped wondering who would dominate and play the others card and kiss a stranger to taste a new wine. I stopped wondering when it would end, or how I would end it, or if those eyes I had peered into for so long had gone a different shade of green and that the package was the same but its contents had changed into something that wasn't even love anymore. After all if you're only suppossed to fall in love with certain people and that certain person changes then whose to say it is love anymore.
I just about let my fingers give way to the bliss of the freefall the wonder and splendor of losing it all but you caught me or maybe it was suppossed to be that I had to uncover my eyes to see, that you were waiting open arms to catch me.
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If anything I do drugs to appreciate reality.
