People confuse me,
I never want to be the way they are.
I never want to be the way I am,
I confuse myself.

--

When we start to do things for the approval of others it can be so hard to forget we are writing to ourselves,
I think that's the problem with love,
Anyone would grab the world for someone else,
But nobody would save some for themselves.
We lose our world in trying to please others,
We forget who we are, trying to become what we want someone to see.
That's why love is blind.

--The more I live, the more I love, the more I realize life's not in my control.
The most elegant things, come and go so beautifully.
The most passionate feelings, subconsciously render my heart more powerful than my mind.
Everything I have loved, I have loved so naturally.
Everything I have loved, has run its course.

Loving you felt similar to running to answer the phone and then someone hanging up right before.
It felt like hoping a car won't run out of gas on the way to the gas station.
It felt like watching a fire burn out because you didn't gather enough firewood.
It felt like being sick and not having enough money to pay the hospital bill.
It felt like taking a dive into a swimming pool without knowing how to swim.

My eyes felt weak,
The sun felt different.

In the mornings, the hazy embodiment of my figure came out of the shadows that the moon once lit on the sidewalk.
The way the morning sun cut through the window,
the clarity that echoed through the dull breeze.
It was all effortless.

I used to take drives down country roads in the mornings.
The dew on the grass looked like sea glass of an other worldly dimension.
In the mornings, my body felt weak,
A dreamlike cloud would hover itself over me.
The stars would fade as the sun ascended.

Dreams came across my mind,
What would the morning sky be like in the year 9999?
Would new wonders dissipate the present and render our perceptions of the present useless?

I thought about the insects that lived for a day,
   Reality is a strange concept,
its never really there.
   Reality is everything that is different from yourself.

What is reality for "a butterfly who floats for a day and thinks that it is forever?"
Perhaps we are just the same,
We float for a day and think it is forever.

Our dreams will be and cease to be,
Reality will be a morning drive,
Thoughts and feelings will come and go,

The sun will come up again.

When she opened her mouth,
every color came out.
I was -*colorblind

If I am beautiful
I forfeit my ugliness

If I am ugly
I forfeit my beauty

If I am insane
I forfeit my sanity

If I choose not too decide
I still have made a choice