But not least
There’s something in the way you walk, it tells tales.
Of forgotten smiles, of anger and heartfelt angst.
All the history, all the scars, tell me if you will,
if love has graced your life.
Tell me because I don’t know,
If Love transcends everything else.
If Love would.
Lest I fall, upon my own inaccurate expectations.
Lest I face disappointment of the highest level.
Lest I miss, you.
Ramblings
A day in the life of. That’s what they’re calling it these days, when you tell someone about your day, implying that it conveniently describes every other day.
Maybe it does.
Before science intervened, there were rumors going around that goldfish only retained 10 seconds of their memory. If a goldfish was happy, it would think it has been happy it’s entire life. Same goes for if it were sad, hungry or just lost.
Do fish think about where they swim or do they just go wherever. Why does everything have to be a destination? Spare me from the saying ” It’s not the destination, it’s the journey” . We all know that’s usually not true.
How many people actually figure out the true meaning behind it? And even if they do, it’s still, nonetheless, an individual interpretation.
It’s so ironic. We claim to be unique beings yet we refer to quotes by people of the past. “ If someone already said it best, why not just use it. “
But it’s not about it being said best, is it? It’s about you realizing the sense behind it and making a decision whether or not to put that in your own philosophy. I’m sorry, am I losing you here? I always seem to.
It’s all about running away. Running from something, rather than to something.
Old maps, new directions.
Pack these bags, no, we’re not leaving.
The bags are. Throw these burdens,
remove the locks and unlock these shackles.
I’m with you now.
We’re going somewhere, and for the first time,
it’s not running away. It’s not leaving. We’re going.
A first time for everything, they always say.
It could only be you.
I’ll need new bags. Empty ones, ready to be filled.
New burdens and also, of course, a new co-writer.
You didn’t think you were just a new chapter, did you?
You’re not going anywhere, you’re writing my life together with me.
Active participation, so to speak. Let’s not waste time.
You’ve go your pony and I’ve got you, let’s go.
Journal you, journal me, let’s never stop writing.
You’re with me now.
A reason
Keys to that one door, I’ve been waiting a long time,
Now I’ve found that door, and the right key, a perfect fit;
Twist and turn, let me in, fate, let me,
It’s not opening, why? Do tell.
These carvings, creative vandals, is there a story?
Clueless, impatient. Yet I hesitate for a while,
I can see you, can you hear me. I cry out to you.
Don’t forget me, no, not before midnight,
Don’t let me fade away, don’t let this go to waste,
I’ll stand by the door, I’ll keep the bells ringing.
Is that you calling, or is that the angels singing,
Come for me now, comfort me.
You stole me.
Lay your burdens, I’ll take them,
let’s stop time like you say;
I can see it now, shining brightly,
capture this moment, seal the deal,
I’ll pop the question, grant me the pleasure,
grace me with your one-word answer.
Turning tides
As it is, we naturally resist change. We struggle, but always, without fail, embrace it.
The tides will change, and when it does, a new chapter begins. Flip that page. Every single day we deal with changes, but how often do we take the time to actually accept them. As said before, a clear cut difference between knowing and understanding.
As we brace ourselves for this new chapter, let’s not forget to take a breather. We are always reminded to catch our breath once again, before someone, or something takes it away.
And it will happen, it’s inevitable. It’s life.
Correct me.
If we could dream life away. What joy.
Wait, would you rather sleep life away, or dream life away? I don’t know. Tough choice.
Wait, no, this isn’t right. Why spend your whole life contemplating life.
Covered eyes
As it turns out, you were right. The ugly little truth is that you think you don’t deserve better, but you do. Oh poor you, so deceived.
Second chances do come by, if only you’d try.
Sometimes you let go, sometimes you hold on. You cling on to everything that gave you meaning, ironically, because it gives you purpose.
“ Did I give too much? ” No, silly one. Never too much.
Are you leaving, or waiting for a chance to? I see your packed bags sitting on the front porch every morning.
Sail away, far away. I think it’s finally time to go home, but you don’t think so. You’re in denial, and I’m still waiting for that call.
Still can’t find that song.
Of all the bad things i’ve done. This must be what they were always trying to warn me about. A thing called ‘karma’. They say when it hits you, ‘you won’t know what hit you‘.
It’s not true. You feel it. Running through your veins. Piercing through your heart. Every inch of skin, of flesh, of feeling. Take it all, because you deserve it. I should have known my place, I’m neither popular nor talented. I’m a pawn, like the person next to me on the bus, on the train. Used, and stringed on like a puppet. Steady those hands.
Oh but why, I’ve already fallen.
