Do you ever feel like leaving? No letter. No excuse. Just an empty room, and a note that says, “I’m in paradise now, it’s about time.”
I feel like I am homesick for the places I have never seen. Like the graffiti in the sky And the clouds on the walls. The smiles on faces. Instead of seeing… People who force themselves to dream of places with endless fields of grasses and flowers while the sound gunshots ring through their ears.
A place far from vile men who want the world for themselves. A place where you can just run. Run without the fear of losing your breath or getting tired. Running until you fall asleep, and then running some more.
A place where you can eat dinner. Not a place where you force the ashes of your dead family down your throat. Swallowing cries and whimpers… Eating your own flaws.
A place where you don’t have to feel obligated to use your last breath to apologize for bleeding on someone’s shirt as they look you in your eyes and slit your throat that once laughed through the day. All I hear now is echoes.
A place where you aren’t in a room, with your phone clutched in one hand, the other slapped across your mouth. Hoping your cries won’t be the last gut wrenching sound that departs from that place that once was more than the echoes.
21 century. The age of broken homes, suicidal kids, and bullets in skulls.
We always want change, But we can’t move past the things that have haunted our ancestors. We begin to dream, dream of all things to the point where we don’t notice these haunted things happening again. Hypnotized by golden fire, not noticing it burn with us.
We drink the poison Poured by our own mistakes And we cry about feeling so sick.
We are in the tough place between moving on and letting go. Bound by broken things begging to be set free.
I just want to live somewhere Picturesque. Lined houses, with fences, and chimneys wide enough for Santa
But we can’t have that yet. We’re not ready to move on. Its gets bad before it gets better, But it blows up before it has the chance to grow.
And I just wish I could leave see graffiti in the sky, and clouds on the walls.
I want to hear the sounds in a silent movie. Never mind. I want to listen to the silence.