When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered.
The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work. I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still.
I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them.
I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life.
For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others. I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer.
Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me?
I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created.
If only you knew how much you make my day from a text message or the gentleness of your voice How foolish would I be if you weren’t my choice
First time we chilled in your room we sung and dance with one another So I thought **** it I’ll take one step further
Two conflicting mindsets whom seek perfection We can’t away from each other Infatuated with our reflection
Because of you I Laugh a little harder Cry a little less and Smile a little more Ooohhh how I despise to see you walk out the door
I like you because your you. And that’s all that matters to me. I choose to love you because it’s a choice In my actions you’ll see Hopefully not a day late because by then that’ll cease
Wait Wait I know that last line appeared harsh but time truly waits for no one My love unmeasurable and unconditional if you’ll open your eyes and see me in front of you You’ll notice you’ve already won
Straight borders, Carved by former rulers, Hidden treasures, Disparity and deserts, Majority poor, Civil war, Super wealthy, Mindsets unhealthy, Transatlantic bombs, Landing on the wronged, Once an oasis, Now no go places, Oil worth billions, Starving children, International villains, Attacking civilians, In constant crisis, Lack of human kindness.
I describe my baboon as baboon-shaped. Her name's Babs, which is short for baboon. Sunday I pushed her to the library where we were given a library balloon. It had snot on it, the balloon, because the li- brarian had the Shanghai flu. I'll take my free-book-borrowing busi- ness to Havana, Cuba, where snotty librarians are chippy chipper & well & they never trim their dry quims & they're not bound for ****.
Feelings don't drip from my lips like honey Its hard for me to talk Id rather be stung a hundred times Then tell you my deepest thoughts I'm a hive of negative mindsets pain trapped in a hundred unbreakable locks When I try to take them off even I can get lost So I keep them hidden I'm just not in the mood Feelings don't drip like honey but stay in my throat like glue