Jul 2015
I know that no one understands me.
No one ever has,
and I don't expect anyone ever will.
If I spoke in
every language ever murmured,
no one would know what my words meant.
Even if, as I spoke,
the sea and stars
and all the universe
rolled off my tongue,
my words would still never reach anyone's ears.
But, for some reason,
I keep waiting for someone
to come along and know my depths
before I breathe a single word.
No one ever has,
and I don't expect anyone ever will.
If I spoke in
every language ever murmured,
no one would know what my words meant.
Even if, as I spoke,
the sea and stars
and all the universe
rolled off my tongue,
my words would still never reach anyone's ears.
But, for some reason,
I keep waiting for someone
to come along and know my depths
before I breathe a single word.
Feeling in the mood for some free form today :)
I know that to some people this may sound kind of like emo or something, but it's totally not. Recently I've felt oddly content in the knowledge that I think differently than others and not as empty about the fact that I've never known anyone who really got me. It's almost become comforting, in a way, to know that no one else is thinking your thoughts.
I know that to some people this may sound kind of like emo or something, but it's totally not. Recently I've felt oddly content in the knowledge that I think differently than others and not as empty about the fact that I've never known anyone who really got me. It's almost become comforting, in a way, to know that no one else is thinking your thoughts.
