I want that free fall feeling, that butterfly rush. I don't just want to ride the wave of you, I want to drown in your depths. I do not fear the tremors we will face, together we could withstand an earthquake. Anything, anyone other than you would be settling and I'm far too restless for that.
There's that boy
who you know your parents
would absolutely love
and treats you so sweetly
We could spend dinner
having polite conversation
telling cute stories
discussing global issues
and everything would be fine
but I'm not looking for fine
Don't have a flame,
Have a bonfire.
Don't have a spark of power,
Create an empire.
Don't sing a note,
Croon a ballad.
Don't dance a move,
Reanimate those pallid.
Don't stop because you can,
Don't stop at all.
Turn this message
Into your motto and call.
So undesirable, being forgotten after death;
What's the point of living at all,
If you're forgotten upon your last breath?
Perhaps I could be happy
Constructing a modest, pleasant life for my family,
And then passing away a wizened pappy ...
But I endeavor to reach higher
And to achieve goals that some deem unattainable;
That is one of my ultimate desires.
Settle not for mundane,
Be comfortable not with
What just barely sustains.
Don't be an obstacle
On the path to your success:
That is not logical.
Intrepid, a boy strode down the mountain path,
Into nature's unchanging wrath;
The dust stirred at his feet,
The sun kissed his back, fiery heat;
He thought of the bloodbath.
They'd told him to run,
And he did, under the heat of sun.
Now, he'd slowed to a crawl,
Heading away from the desert brawl;
On his waist, he still had his gun.
He came to a stop,
Sat on a rock,
Ran his fingers through his hair-mop.
He should have known not to settle,
It always took a toll.
You're in a bar thousands of miles from home in a city that
your tongue struggles to properly pronounce
watching a seventeen year old chain smoking nicotine he bought from
a girl on the corner
when you first feel like you're beginning to settle,
a familiar weight settling in your stomach,
an old acquaintance a stone's throw from a stomachache,
so you slip off of your stool to stagger to the bathroom
where you clutch the porcelain and kneel with fingers poised
like a prayer to your gag reflex,
but you don't do it,
you just sit and feel cold tiles seeping a chill into your knees
and you're trembling.
You don't get up for a long time
but you know you have to settle and sit eventually.
When you go back to the bar,
a boy with a galaxy smile will take you outside
and buy you candy from a sketchy vending machine,
and you can let yourself believe that sweets solve everything:
sweet words and signs and cards tucked into your jewelry box,
tongues tucked between teeth in smiles and screenshots as receipts
of ten second Snapchat dreams.
But other people can't fix you.
Don't you dare let yourself believe,
don't you dare let yourself put something as fragile as
your happiness in someone else's heart
because it probably won't beat as hard as your own,
and it won't pump life into your joys for long,
and before you know it,
that happiness that you tethered to someone else is gone.
That's okay. You'll be okay.
You just need to learn that memories will only ever be memories,
that things only shine when you
remember that you have to keep them clean,
that the chemicals of development take white pages and make them
that photos come from negatives,
and that you've never had a predisposition
for rose-tinted lenses.
His ring was cold when he put it on my finger,
but I took it anyway,
hoping that it might warm up after I wore it a while.
I may have steamed up the inside of this car with him,
but when he leaves,
I’ll still write your initials on the window.
I might not see you,
talk to you,
or feel your touch ever again,
and my existence is absolutely crazy,
but this is my way of staying loyal to you,
and all that you were to me.
I can't help but love you.
You are me but you messed me up.
I hate being here with you.
I just can not wait to pack my bags and leave you for good.
Yet I know that even when I'm gone I'll miss you.
But never will I miss you enough to come back, ever.
I'll move on to better things.
But you Alabama will always settle for the worst.
You could do so much better.
Shoot for the stars not the clouds.
The thing is, what if I want to shoot for the clouds and the birds in life?
What if I'm scared to death of failure?
I can't even handle the idea of failing.
People don't understand that I am okay with mediocre.
I don't care if I am the very best.
I just want to be good enough.
I don't ask a lot of myself because I always dissapoint.
So now when they say
You could do so much better.
I will reply
Yes I know, but I don't want better.