Apr 2014
Mentality of the younger me.
Emily A. Grande
And as I return to thoughts inducing removing of cellophane off packs of cancer sticks I look around and see memories of cluttered messes. I open up my arms to my insecurities but that always seems to **** me and I start to not be able to withstand me. I think back to when life wasn't made up of cliche clicks of the inevitable clock that makes time the most important thing in this life that inside your conscious continually clicks.
I miss mentality of a childhood and unfortunately to grow up you have to grow old and forget of those children's stories you were told. Of Heroes and knights in shining armor of sensitivity and realizing they have always just wanted to **** me. It's sad to see the princess you thought you we're wear a crown that feels more made of thorns because that one sacred and now questioned person died for your dignity. But then you question religion and in turn question living. And **** I want so bad not to flip through the chapters of my life and believe that they can't have fairy tale
Endings but that's the thing...
This beautiful tale already insinuates it's make believe. And inside you start to turn bitter it seems because when you grow up it's all about the questioning and overthinking and decision making and times catching up on me. And just when you start to feel like you can breathe is ironically when you start to inhale different smoke. Or maybe something else and then you realize your becoming one of the kids your mom warned you about and this induces doubt that your okay and can mentally stay sane and Wonder where you'll end up someday.
I don't need much just a simple kiss or tight hug and I seem to be giving more of myself then my soul because opening legs opens minds but builds up walls and close doors and. Makes god open that window that seems more of an escape to jump out rather then just open it up and take in a deep breath.
Deep breathes now are more of exasperated signs accomplices of chips piling up on shoulders and never giving tension in your head and heart a rest. And your feeling like ribs dominate the whole cavity of your chest and start to realize the real things for which your blessed. I'm learning how not to want to "not want," to give into sweet temptations that are no longer recreations and becoming daily routines.
I wish my day still consisted of playing outside and running around with the entire world created in a mind that hasn't been molded into what fate has decided to deal in life's game. But that's the thing about games. We all seem to want to play but I am never winning or a sore loser but always losing. These decisions aren't mine for the choosing. But souls sore from losing creates scars on hearts and overthinking starts.
And it's always check mate for that person who made me think they would actually stay with lies of sincerity and devotion and those strategically placed pawns are played. I'm dealing a deck of cards that are all faces and I'm stuck with low numbers and days that seem to change from black to red. Two extremes hot and heavy and heaving sighs build up and I can't ever begin to rest.
I feel like I'm constantly the name Called in red rover because even as kids we were taught to call out the weakest link in the chain and it's those that break through this wall that survive. But those that don't are forced to hold hands with people who's defeated soul couldn't break through the wall and together they collectively become Strong on each others losing common bonds.
Children play hide and seek because people learn to accept the idea of finding what they can't have as a challenge right off the bat. And as you begin to decide you are not one to win you want to throw hands in the air and scream **** it. That the chase is the thrill and to win it's about the other person giving in.
And **** I feel like my closest friends could be the death of me but I also couldn't begin to live without them and we all condone what we're doing isn't collectively wrong. Partners in crime are future misfits staying strong.
Emily A. Grande
And as I return to thoughts inducing removing of cellophane off packs of cancer sticks I look around and see memories of cluttered messes. I open up my arms to my insecurities but that always seems to **** me and I start to not be able to withstand me. I think back to when life wasn't made up of cliche clicks of the inevitable clock that makes time the most important thing in this life that inside your conscious continually clicks.
I miss mentality of a childhood and unfortunately to grow up you have to grow old and forget of those children's stories you were told. Of Heroes and knights in shining armor of sensitivity and realizing they have always just wanted to **** me. It's sad to see the princess you thought you we're wear a crown that feels more made of thorns because that one sacred and now questioned person died for your dignity. But then you question religion and in turn question living. And **** I want so bad not to flip through the chapters of my life and believe that they can't have fairy tale
Endings but that's the thing...
This beautiful tale already insinuates it's make believe. And inside you start to turn bitter it seems because when you grow up it's all about the questioning and overthinking and decision making and times catching up on me. And just when you start to feel like you can breathe is ironically when you start to inhale different smoke. Or maybe something else and then you realize your becoming one of the kids your mom warned you about and this induces doubt that your okay and can mentally stay sane and Wonder where you'll end up someday.
I don't need much just a simple kiss or tight hug and I seem to be giving more of myself then my soul because opening legs opens minds but builds up walls and close doors and. Makes god open that window that seems more of an escape to jump out rather then just open it up and take in a deep breath.
Deep breathes now are more of exasperated signs accomplices of chips piling up on shoulders and never giving tension in your head and heart a rest. And your feeling like ribs dominate the whole cavity of your chest and start to realize the real things for which your blessed. I'm learning how not to want to "not want," to give into sweet temptations that are no longer recreations and becoming daily routines.
I wish my day still consisted of playing outside and running around with the entire world created in a mind that hasn't been molded into what fate has decided to deal in life's game. But that's the thing about games. We all seem to want to play but I am never winning or a sore loser but always losing. These decisions aren't mine for the choosing. But souls sore from losing creates scars on hearts and overthinking starts.
And it's always check mate for that person who made me think they would actually stay with lies of sincerity and devotion and those strategically placed pawns are played. I'm dealing a deck of cards that are all faces and I'm stuck with low numbers and days that seem to change from black to red. Two extremes hot and heavy and heaving sighs build up and I can't ever begin to rest.
I feel like I'm constantly the name Called in red rover because even as kids we were taught to call out the weakest link in the chain and it's those that break through this wall that survive. But those that don't are forced to hold hands with people who's defeated soul couldn't break through the wall and together they collectively become Strong on each others losing common bonds.
Children play hide and seek because people learn to accept the idea of finding what they can't have as a challenge right off the bat. And as you begin to decide you are not one to win you want to throw hands in the air and scream **** it. That the chase is the thrill and to win it's about the other person giving in.
And **** I feel like my closest friends could be the death of me but I also couldn't begin to live without them and we all condone what we're doing isn't collectively wrong. Partners in crime are future misfits staying strong.
