Who am I more like, my mother or my father?
I have my mother’s face and my father’s humor
But my eyes are my father’s and my hair is my mother’s
Although from a certain angle it seems that I have my mother’s nose
And my father’s teeth
But while my lips curve in my mother’s smile
And my eyes crinkle into my father’s
And though my shyness is my mother’s
And my temper belongs to my father
I sense, through my mother’s worry and my father’s words
That maybe some part of me
Is hiding
With my father’s tenacity and my mother’s silence
Some part
Is hiding
Under my parents’ skins
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
Paris is always a good idea.
Because even though there is a total of 2.234 million people
And even though I am more of a turtle than my mother
Paris is for lovers
And hopefully I’ll be able to find someone to kiss away my sadness
And whisper away my loneliness
Fight my bad thoughts away
And love my sleepless nights to a lull
Paris is always a good idea.
Because even though I’ve only been kissed a total of 23.6 times
And even though I’ve only ever loved one boy
Paris is for people
And hopefully love is an inherent trait that is possible to find
In the darkness of a cafe corner
And in the nooks and crannies of a quiet song
The lyrics weaving in and out of my dusty heartstrings
Dulling my unusually painful sleepless nights
Paris is always a good idea.
Because even though the ratio of lonely people to happy people is 10:1
And even though people walk past me on the streets without a second glance
Paris is for loners
Who wander the streets on moonless nights
And wish upon sightless stars
For someone else to accompany them in their aloneness
Mentally throwing themselves to the wolves every chance they get
They create worlds and stories to combat their empty beds,
Lonely hearts,
And sleepless nights.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC