I've been collecting shades of life and it seems all I really have is a gradient scale of tired eyes and restless hands. This is the reality of it all and to be honest I just wanted my name to roll like thunder in your dreams. I lost my will to hold my own against the tide and that's when it all began. Typical girl, I always looked at you like you put stars in the sky but, it's broad daylight and baby, you've never touched a star. And you sicken me with your bedroom philosophy as if you were ever a scholar on church steps. And I'm one shade too tired to pretend this doesn't ruin me. So pack up and leave me. And I'll say hello to this clusterfuck of things thy never made me feel so good.
Words.
Cuz it's not about being sad all the time. It's about knowing emotional exhaustion like the well versed, back of your hand. Resistance is drowning every time you close your eyes and still knowing deep down, The Show Must Go On. Now I'm just lying here inhaling oceans and you still think it's a good idea to talk about the sunset from her window. And the only thing that shouts out at me from all of this is how everything seems so ****** and so small to me frequently. So I throw up my good intentions and all the reasons I thought this could be a vigil to a time I felt wanted and I laugh cuz Cupid just won't stop shooting me with these dull arrows. I mean, have I not been here before? This silence I hear when I'm alone; Am I really surprised by the way it holds me? And have I not bought real estate with the familiarity of it all? Don't dwell on it, though. If anything just remember, this is not bitter failure, this is the recovery.
This is learning and such is life.
"clusterfuck of things that never made me feel so good"
