It's like I try to close my eyes
But when they shut
My head starts to pound
I think about how attached I am
To the things that don't really matter
Beings that don't really be
An outrageous amount of broken beauty
Every little piece is there
But I always find myself
Gazing at what I think is real
Thinking about its existence
Wishing it was reachable
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 5:13 AM UTC
It's like I try to close my eyes
But when they shut
My head starts to pound
I think about how attached I am
To the things that don't really matter
Beings that don't really be
An outrageous amount of broken beauty
Every little piece is there
But I always find myself
Gazing at what I think is real
Thinking about its existence
Wishing it was reachable
