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Matter

Awoke to a sad same day And before I went back to bed I crumpled every fucking dream And threw them all away Fools are those who imagine It’s somehow righteous to be different And amid the masses they’ll be seen But no one knows you, little man The news is not covering your dreams I think someone really wants me To be the same as all the rest Behind their smiles I see a lie And though I’ve scoured the bay for truth Cities make, of my reflection, jest Dreams are this illusion of vastness Like matter, what seems dense is hollow What I want, to you, is small Every selfish field must grow fallow What’s fateful matters not at all So it turns out I was right And happiness must be An empty bottle A towel to throw in every fight
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Written by
devin-weaver
American
Published
Aug 20, 2016
Lines·Words
27·143
Notes

Found this in an old folder, written 9 years ago. Thought I'd share, as it spoke to me.

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