What I want In you Is someone who'd never say goodbye
17.09.2018 When I grow older, the thing I look forward to most is a best friend who'd never say goodbye. Who'd never leave my life. Because I'm tired of having to let go of every friend I ever have. Because I leave. I've always left. Moving away. Goodbyes are easier now. But that doesn't make me yearn any less.
Why do I let you mess with my head? I’m always laying here clueless in bed. Trying to think of things I can shred like Zed, But we know it’s fiction, That Pulp said he’s dead. Maybe I should chill, Pop another med, But now I’m letting something else put me back in my head. I’m stranded, lonely, I only know to put paper to lead. To sum it up, You ****** me, Nuff said.
The sun has barely risen. The birds; already signing. Today is the day I must forget the fact that you've been missing. I am the queen, I do this on my own. Never will a peasant tread near my royal throne. My princess lost her father, but he would never lose his daughter. We share an unbreakable bond, yours was temporary and weak like solder. You melt away, never to be seen, When the temperature rises; we could never be a team. Send me the blacksmith, a real, strong man. One who's not afraid to burn his hands. Surely he'd know, I can heal his wounds. How would you though? You left so soon. To you, the queen will always be Mother. You have no need for me, a more than significant other. Today is the day I let it all go. You'll never forget, that this is my show.
There is a tree that rests upon a white bookshelf. Unheard yet all-seeing it is constructed of marble flesh and bronze painted skin. Only the bravest of imaginative minds can possibly fathom the smooth texture that adorns it and the stroke of detail that dances on the surface. Draped in glittering, soft pink leaves, it tells of long-lost stories. Tales, tainted with sadness and passion. It taught a thousand soldiers, forgiveness. And patiently waited for a baby's first laugh.
I think we're all just flailing our arms around calling it dancing trying to orient our sense of direction when technology fails us, finding yard sticks to measure up our own morality. I think we're all a little dumb, a little lost wandering around bumping into one another and calling it love. I don't think any of us really know why we're here, what we're doing, who we should be with. I think the world's a bit of a mess. Who's defining our moral compass?