why is it that i can only form words
about idiotic people making the most sense of their lives
and me hating mirrors
and me hating me.
why can’t i speak about
the way the clouds graze over my ankles when i’m laying in a field
or the way you TOUCHED my hand
and my heart fluttered like an angel
if only my innocence were that strong
and my skin that pure
i have rashes and wounds and heals and brokens
and i am not happy with any of it
but there i go again
ignoring how soft my blanket feels or the way the dust on my fan sits
even though it goes every night
to drown out my thoughts
so i have hope in falling asleep
because you know i can never sleep in silence
or with the television on
because i’m afraid of quiet and i’m afraid of loud
and i am a contradiction in every sense of the **** word
and i love it.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
why is it that i can only form words
about idiotic people making the most sense of their lives
and me hating mirrors
and me hating me.
why can’t i speak about
the way the clouds graze over my ankles when i’m laying in a field
or the way you TOUCHED my hand
and my heart fluttered like an angel
if only my innocence were that strong
and my skin that pure
i have rashes and wounds and heals and brokens
and i am not happy with any of it
but there i go again
ignoring how soft my blanket feels or the way the dust on my fan sits
even though it goes every night
to drown out my thoughts
so i have hope in falling asleep
because you know i can never sleep in silence
or with the television on
because i’m afraid of quiet and i’m afraid of loud
and i am a contradiction in every sense of the **** word
and i love it.
