Lately I've bumped a tune with words that go "Now thinking hurts and feeling is worse I liked reality better when it was a dream" but I think it's up to me to work toward making a dream out of my reality
Even when standing means kneeling with arms throwing prayers to God Even when standing means sitting and looking through memories in photographs Even when standing means crying making yourself lighter in the tears floating away Even when standing means stepping and putting one foot in front to brace your desire of moving on
It’s okay to be together With hands held tight
Except when hands are swords thrown more carelessly than insulting words Except when hands are lies beckoning false hope to set up camp in broken homes Except when hands are eyes pulled away by naked screens crushing bones and hearts Except when hands are pocketed because being together isn’t all it’s cracked up to be
I'm equating my self worth with beauty, with how often my phone lights up or how often it doesn't, how smooth my shoulders are, and wouldn't someone care to kiss me?
I'm not sure if my dreams change to suit other people or if suiting other people has pleased me. Or if the things I form affinities for actually appeal to me.
Sometimes a push or pull on your heart strings knocks you over, empty. curling up and disappearing is tempting, but you are made from water pour yourself full
& then it begins; the first moment, the second moment, the first & second series of moments where there is beauty outside of you & it is so very unreal that even the sun seems to shine brighter in places where you are not.