picture it:
two girls, hand in hand.
picture the first as a happy girl,
vibrant even.
she laughs and jokes constantly,
gives compliments, and offers support.
always the shoulder to lean on,
and has the nice remarks when you need them.
she walks for you, acts for you, always sees your problems for you.
never gives up until there's a smile on your face.
she's got her problems,
but she would never show it on hers.
she's invincible and you can see it too.
now see the second girl:
she's fragmented,
split constantly.
always screaming against a box of glass
no-one bothers to turn their head towards.
imagine the piercing of the cries,
the depth of her voice.
the night accompanies
the softness of her face
and the rivers of her tears.
her chest digs deeper inward
and the weights on her body crush her harder
than she thought was possible.
she wonders if it all will eat her alive,
and not one person will notice her absence in the world.
would you believe me
if i told you both girls were the same?
would you realize
that the girl who's fierce, bright, and always strong
is screaming for someone to notice she isn't?

no words / no actions / no thoughts
can change the pain of the past.
we can try to erase each piece of it all,
but in the end,
we are born from what has hurt us.
however...
we can find a place to start
and rise against the hurt,
the tears, and the memories
that have threatened to break us.
it isn't an easy feat,
and i would be naive to say it is,
but each morning says hello to me
with a chance to step forward.
and i would rather move with the odds against me,
than sit and watch them destroy me
along with what i can't let go.

until there's nothing left
in your eyes
i carry ounces and pounds and tons
like they're feathers flying through the air
weightless and bountiful
and plentifully fine on the space of my back
you give and give and give and give
the matter that seems to weigh you down
with little regard for the emptiness of agreement
my words long to fill and object
i'm not asking for too much
i just want you to know
my back isn't spacious
my arms aren't made of steel
my face isn't built of stone and promises
for your words and actions to take in
i'm not something that is resourceful
i fall and i shatter
and i'm drowning from everything
you take and take and take

it's funny how one song messes with your equilibrium
the previous space you were in, the immensity of time.
the chords, the verses, the lines.
your brain and the magic behind the sound
have come to ruin you and tap into your soul,
so beautifully/unapologetically/painfully.
"don't think twice is alright" has it's own magic.
it's a 1963 breakup song,
but somehow the lyrics have seeped deeper into my skin
and taken claim of emotions my brain has slowly buried for me.
good thing the lyrics manage to dig them back up for me.
you could've done better, but i don't mind.
when hearing dylan's voice, a harmonica, and a couple guitar stings,
i didn't expect thoughts of personal loss, regret, and abandonment
to come up, loud and demanding to be heard.
then again, music holds a power
nobody's mind could break down and bottle.