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3.8k · Aug 2012
Jealousy
Ash Russon Aug 2012
She reaches for him, but he turns away, or at least it always feels that way.
She feels so lonely every day, never knowing what to say.
What to say to him to make him understand, all she wants to do is hold his hand.
To be the one that he kisses goodnight, the one that he loves with all his might.
But she knows that no matter what she could say, he is still looking at the other girl that way.
She’s starting to turn green in the brain, jealousy brings nothing but pain.
She wishes she felt different, that she could be a better friend, but that little green monster seems to be around every bend.
She’s so hurt, lost, and terribly confused; she has no clue what else to do.
Her head keeps telling her she’s who he needs, now that jealousy has started mixing with greed.
She wants to keep him for herself, he doesn’t need that other girl, she wishes she could help.
But the simple truth is she’s only making it worse, her jealousy has gotten the best of her.
Now if only I could see, this jealousy has made a mess of me.
This was never who I wanted to be, but that little green monster has me under lock and key.
I try to run away, I try to hide, but that monster has gotten inside, and now there is no way I could flee.
I’ve become a monster, the monster is me.
Ash Russon Aug 2012
Beautiful or beautifully tragic, those are the things that come out of the radio static.
The things that will help you when things are dramatic, or push you down until you about had it.
Music is such a powerful thing, it can help lift you, and give you your wings, keep on pushing until everyone sings, or drown you in thoughts till you’re a miserable being.
So wonderful and dreadful all at the same time, like a time keeper who keeps forgetting the time, or a rapper who never learned how to rhyme. So beautiful and tragic are you and I.
So we listen to music, day after day, thinking somehow it will make the feelings go away.
Maybe it will for an hour or two, but eventually the thoughts always come back to you.
So feel the thunder, and the lightning strike, music will always be there night after night, never too far out of your sight, so hold it close, hold it tight.
Slowly people will fade away, but music, my friend, will always stay.
Beautiful or tragic, or a mix of both, there’s no life without it, no love, no hope.

— The End —