I don't want to belong to anyone,
not even myself.

Secrets The very word triggers a flood of nervous, guilty feelings.
Why?
Do we all hold some sort of deep secret?
We all have them, some have many, while some have just one, but that one
holds more intensity than gravity holding Earth together.

Our own self denial cannot run from this this very word.
We run from lies, love, and pain.
But truth be told,
We cannot even simply run from the word, let alone secrets themselves.

Destroy yourself or heal yourself up, by asking yourself
Why?
Why do I get so anxious about
Secrets?

I love you.
But you hate me.

That's fine, because I hate myself, too.

I love not only you, but your hatred towards me as well.

She did not care.

Why should she?

What's new to make her feel a sudden wave of emotion?

This is the world she is used to, this is the world she has been shaped to know. And to survive for her own well-being, she can't care.

And she won't care.

She won't care because she cares too much.
But obviously she doesn't care enough to not become what the dystopian world wants her to.

There lives a world

Where nights are calm as war

And we have yet to explore

Beyond the biased box.


A violent storm breaking in

And running their home,

Taking everything that,

Even the children own.


Installing fear that none can hear

With their backs to the door,

Discerning false information with only an ear.

No eyes.


Will it ever end? When, why?

Because doves don't exist on either side.

Entering my own daydream
Where birds fly with the wind
  When I can be free
And where time has no end

  Sitting with myself with wonder
About the cruel, dull world out there
  Wishing someone will bring thunder
To the quiet planet, the most rare

  Hello, is there anyone like me?
Who sees the world now
  And how the world should be?
If only the one's I want, knew how

  Lost in thought it may seem
But for now, my reality is not a daydream



-cc

What do I feel?

Sometimes I feel like a song
Sometimes a beautiful song, other times an overwhelming wreck of a song

Sometimes I feel superiority to others
Sometimes I feel lower than dirt

Sometimes I'm mellow and monotonous
Sometimes I'm hyper and anxious and paranoid

Sometimes I'm devious, callous, and shallow
Other times I'm sensitive, over dramatic, and emotional

Sometimes I feel none of these, sometimes all.
So when the question is asked, "How do you feel?"

All I can say is:
Nothing. Or . Everything.

It seems fictitious, but it is indeed real.