Aspiring,
Dreading,
Forgetting.
As soon as it leaves it returns,
Unburned:
The wishes,
The yearning,
With the pain of wanting.
Somehow I want to make someone proud,
But I've never met them,
I'm sure I never will,
They have no clue how hard I'm trying,
Just to make myself heard,
While desperately making sure I
Seep into the background.
Deep down I know I can do many things,
Or maybe lately that reaches the surface,
Until it drowns again,
Then somehow survives,
Resuscitates itself from nothing.
It's called my motivation,
My effort to succeed.
But out of all these things,
I will not allow one to be trying to please someone,
Who has:
Never been pleased with me;
Doesn't own the right to be proud;
Or have the chance to find me;
Convince themselves they can make amends.
I believe in second chances,
Just not for people who never even started.
Next I see someone else,
Whose only in my dreams.
He makes me worthwhile,
For a little bit,
And I'm able to smile.
He keeps me safe,
Gives me enough love to take,
And let's me breathe again.
Each time it never fails
To remind me,
How I need this,
As much as the air I breathe.
It gives me things,
Things which I need.
Apparently escapism,
Isn't allowed to be reality,
But I'll keep coming back to it,
Just to get through the days,
Even if it shouldn't be keeping me awake.
