Jul 2016
I’ll tell you that we’re all just stars in the sky. Just because there are nights you don’t shine through the city lights doesn’t mean you’re not there, remember, it doesn’t mean you’ve lost the purpose to create beautiful things, so don’t burn out just yet. When there are nights you can’t seem to push through the negativity that clouds you, remember; you are more than your current disposition.
ONE: I’ll tell you that you’re made of stardust and have galaxies for eyes, giving me the faith to muster up my doubt to look at the sky and expect for more than just this.
TWO: To the boy who told me I could do anything, except the one thing I love to; your words held the knife and cut through me. I am not a statue cut in stone any longer. I can grow, change and evolve into someone greater than the smile you chiseled into me. I am not a tree planted by your disposition and watered by your opinions.
THREE: I’ll tell you that people are not hospitals. They can’t enter your life and heal what isn’t broken. They are not hands with vacancy signs scratched into their veins. People aren’t pills for a quick fix to ease the lonely. You will only end up more sick of the placebo lies that are stuffed down your throat in attempt to heal you.
FOUR: I will tell you that love is just a game of hide and seek. You will look in the wrong places and feel lost in the dark, but you don’t stop looking. You don’t stop until finally, they’re it. Why do we fear when the scariest thing we can imagine resides in our own mind? When we feel broken, our scars inked onto porcelain skin are simply faded encounters with fate. You’ll fall flat on your face, but at least then you will know it was real. You are a story, novel, art in the human condition, 600 words per minute, but you are not a puzzle waiting to be completed. You are an incomprehensible metaphor for tomorrow.
Maybe I don’t know much, and maybe I don’t know anything at all, but I do know this;
FIVE: When we feel helpless, hopeless, and on the brink of nothingness, that is when we know we’re still alive. It’s just another reminder that we’ve still got work to do.
ONE: I’ll tell you that you’re made of stardust and have galaxies for eyes, giving me the faith to muster up my doubt to look at the sky and expect for more than just this.
TWO: To the boy who told me I could do anything, except the one thing I love to; your words held the knife and cut through me. I am not a statue cut in stone any longer. I can grow, change and evolve into someone greater than the smile you chiseled into me. I am not a tree planted by your disposition and watered by your opinions.
THREE: I’ll tell you that people are not hospitals. They can’t enter your life and heal what isn’t broken. They are not hands with vacancy signs scratched into their veins. People aren’t pills for a quick fix to ease the lonely. You will only end up more sick of the placebo lies that are stuffed down your throat in attempt to heal you.
FOUR: I will tell you that love is just a game of hide and seek. You will look in the wrong places and feel lost in the dark, but you don’t stop looking. You don’t stop until finally, they’re it. Why do we fear when the scariest thing we can imagine resides in our own mind? When we feel broken, our scars inked onto porcelain skin are simply faded encounters with fate. You’ll fall flat on your face, but at least then you will know it was real. You are a story, novel, art in the human condition, 600 words per minute, but you are not a puzzle waiting to be completed. You are an incomprehensible metaphor for tomorrow.
Maybe I don’t know much, and maybe I don’t know anything at all, but I do know this;
FIVE: When we feel helpless, hopeless, and on the brink of nothingness, that is when we know we’re still alive. It’s just another reminder that we’ve still got work to do.
I'm tired.
06 | 25 | 2016
06 | 25 | 2016
