I am in a circle of agony.
As I venture out, I am forever drawn into the center,
centrifugal forces area lie--
I can never seem to flee, but I am rather so attracted
to that pinpoint of melancholy
that seems to resonate with me
too much to be healthy,
too much to make sense.
As I look back at our mess,
the storm we created,
the whirlwind of excitement
and pain and hurt and toxicity
(but the love was there)
all I see now are a mumble of black and red,
the words mixed and blurred,
the meaning nixed.
It is in this chaos,
I feel safe.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC
I am in a circle of agony.
As I venture out, I am forever drawn into the center,
centrifugal forces area lie--
I can never seem to flee, but I am rather so attracted
to that pinpoint of melancholy
that seems to resonate with me
too much to be healthy,
too much to make sense.
As I look back at our mess,
the storm we created,
the whirlwind of excitement
and pain and hurt and toxicity
(but the love was there)
all I see now are a mumble of black and red,
the words mixed and blurred,
the meaning nixed.
It is in this chaos,
I feel safe.
oops im v v much in my bag
chasing cars
snow patrol
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