The door in my mind
Has been locked for a very long time;
Probably from the smoke drifting
From the alter I've built to my misgivings
There are tally marks on my stomach
Counting how many times I just stopped
Caring,
And I feel my chest turn to stone
With every breath.
Sometimes I wonder what the fear
Of a storm at sea feels like,
And if it's anything similar
To the paralysis I feel when
Someone is screaming.
There are days when I wish
I could speak in color.
When a shiver goes down my spine,
I wonder what you're saying about
Me.
Maybe life was just an accident God made
When playing with dolls
Sometimes I wish everything made sense,
And that my mind wasn't so faceted
And tangled like string
But maybe Everything is a jigsaw puzzle
With missing pieces.
Maybe we're not supposed to understand.
Or maybe there's not anything we're supposed
To do.
Maybe life is screaming and color and a storm
At sea.
Maybe God is still playing with dolls.
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC
The door in my mind
Has been locked for a very long time;
Probably from the smoke drifting
From the alter I've built to my misgivings
There are tally marks on my stomach
Counting how many times I just stopped
Caring,
And I feel my chest turn to stone
With every breath.
Sometimes I wonder what the fear
Of a storm at sea feels like,
And if it's anything similar
To the paralysis I feel when
Someone is screaming.
There are days when I wish
I could speak in color.
When a shiver goes down my spine,
I wonder what you're saying about
Me.
Maybe life was just an accident God made
When playing with dolls
Sometimes I wish everything made sense,
And that my mind wasn't so faceted
And tangled like string
But maybe Everything is a jigsaw puzzle
With missing pieces.
Maybe we're not supposed to understand.
Or maybe there's not anything we're supposed
To do.
Maybe life is screaming and color and a storm
At sea.
Maybe God is still playing with dolls.
