when i say i want it all
i'm not sure what i mean
living like an artist
but struggling like a fool
painted your hand in mine
because i wanted to be led to a sign
i don't know if you truly exist
and i'm not sure if i even care
at this point
blame it on me, blame it on you
i stopped asking for your help
a previous entity ago
i drove off that cliff and died
but a part of me floated upwards
into the clouds, was saved
my echo was here to stay
the circus clowns stopped laughing that day
this was a serious matter
more serious than losing a leg in an accident
or giving birth for the first time
but i never uttered your voice once
when i did the decision making
no one loves you for the right reasons
so why love you at all?
There’s a thing that I must tell you:
I’ll get straight to the point.
Verbs make a story,
Tell me a story,
of who, what, when and where.
Don’t just paint a picture
and leave me there.
Yes, the flowers are pretty
and the sun is hot.
But we all know that--
interesting, it’s not.
Your lover was beautiful.
Your mood is sad.
But please make something happen
or I’ll be fuming mad.
probably no one who needs to read this will read it
There are so many moments, where you let slip the fingers
That was once your source of comfort and warmth,
That once was your home and livelihood.
It could be the last moments as you let them fall off a cliff
Or the last time you realise you'll ever hold the same hands
Or the last time your parents held your hand.
The moment where you let go of someones fingertips.
Got me magnetised,
If I had a chance to hold your hands,
Though everything destroying the planet,
I would urge myself not to let go
I hope that you just know
That your personality exudes from your words
So I can only imagine what lets out in the palms of your hands.
As beautiful as the skies
And I am one to fall in love with stars
So beautiful eyes,
I ...hope one day my palms won't remain empty.
— The End —