I look at my life and see two roads.
And I stand against the current, I'm standing between them and hoping I won't have to choose.
I'm a laundry basket of jealousy, frustration and worry.
I'm constantly walking on egg shells because I don't want anything to change.
I don't want to upset you
I don't want to anger you
I don't want to lose you.
So I hide behind someone who isn't fully myself.
Because you know not yet who you are. And I guess I don't too.
We are carcasses in this life and our paths will show what we choose to show. But your emptiness frightens me and I feel it my duty to fill you.
But I'm torn between someone who cares and someone who can't. I'm torn because the perfect piece of paper I once was is no longer something salvageable.
You aren't the same. So I guess I'm not too.
But I turn to something that isn't stable to help me out of my own battles. I turn to a floating piece of plastic and expect it to help me stay afloat.
These two roads are both a part of myself. These roads aren't a mangled lie or a twisted fib,
They are who I am, just not to the full extent.
You aren't you to the full extent.
And I guess, I'm not too.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
I look at my life and see two roads.
And I stand against the current, I'm standing between them and hoping I won't have to choose.
I'm a laundry basket of jealousy, frustration and worry.
I'm constantly walking on egg shells because I don't want anything to change.
I don't want to upset you
I don't want to anger you
I don't want to lose you.
So I hide behind someone who isn't fully myself.
Because you know not yet who you are. And I guess I don't too.
We are carcasses in this life and our paths will show what we choose to show. But your emptiness frightens me and I feel it my duty to fill you.
But I'm torn between someone who cares and someone who can't. I'm torn because the perfect piece of paper I once was is no longer something salvageable.
You aren't the same. So I guess I'm not too.
But I turn to something that isn't stable to help me out of my own battles. I turn to a floating piece of plastic and expect it to help me stay afloat.
These two roads are both a part of myself. These roads aren't a mangled lie or a twisted fib,
They are who I am, just not to the full extent.
You aren't you to the full extent.
And I guess, I'm not too.
She wasn't herself so I decided to become someone else as well.
