20/F/Ohio Out beyond ideas
of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field.
I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about. ~ Rumi 72 followers / 9.5k words
Based on things I can't predict, our errors are not all-inclusive; lines are not perfectly straight and sometimes there's too much distance between us, sometimes not enough.
Based on actions I don't yet understand, survival becomes stalled into a thing called "existing" I don't know what is flammable in here but can feel the burning of my own skin, I am ready to ignite; some people are cold and that excites me my secret weakness I like to bring the warmth but sometimes it is only enough to bandage our own wounds;
The art of imitation is a slippery *****, don't trust me with your secrets, they may too closely echo my own and when you strike a nerve I might seek out refuge in your pain I know I am not the first passenger to feel this way.
Based on things I haven't come to terms with yet, I am beginning to realize the incalculability of our so seemingly deliberate crossings; so don't trust me with your secrets, I apply a honey salve to everything that hurts and I don't know if you are ready yet to feel that sweet soothing burn.
How do you treat an illness that's invisible, how do you mend a would that won't heal? Sanctify my in whatever way you find appropriate, it's fine, I've always liked variety; but these curtains are making it too dark in here,
and I could have anything I want; raise the stakes, I enjoy a good challenge but don't leave me with no light to go by don't smile and kick my legs out from under me; I try to root my bones deep inside my body but my shell is too soft, my skeleton wants to be on the outside.
The ground is shaking but I don't run; for all of you, this one's on me; I've always been a good sport, and this time I'm taking one for the team.
we're hungry and we've come to collect don't mind what's yours, mind what could be yours; there's such a thing as "too sweet", and i don't think i can stomach it anymore; don't plant seeds in my lawn and call it your garden, i make my own peace with what i grow. You call it a catastrophe the way the world is always raining down on us, i tell you to learn how to handle the blows.
We aren't crazy, just out of our heads a little our bones aren't broken, just a bit brittle I know you want to hold the world down with me, we might even find a way to do it but don't close doors on the things you've seen I know you want this to be evergreen; but nobody with clean hands has ever learned anything about tending to their own soil.
a crash course is the best way to learn; describe the world in ways I cannot understand, and I will do my best to undo the hinges underneath your skin. chase the shadows until they leave you alone, your heart skips like a record, off beat stuck on a loop but let it rest a minute. Don't **** my vibe this early in the night, wait at least until my skin crawls and my shoulders cramp up in my sleep test me a few more times and I just might snap my shell is only so thick; you're cooking up a storm but I intend to stir the *** if you find me on my knees, you'd best bet i've got a knife up my sleeve best to just leave it alone; a rolling stone gathers more speed the nearer it gets to its target.