| poetry 183 |
[Jul. 10th, 2009|12:08 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  blank | ] |
| [ | music |
| | A Dustland Fairytale - The Killers | ] |
i.
Ask me if I'm bleeding anywhere that you can't see
Feel my incurable disease that I spread by my eyes
Dripping with unstoppable tears that form and
Leave my face by means of your windshield-wiper fingers
You tell me it's alright in your arms
And I know it is but for some reason
The problem is always something about me
Something you can't change or
Something we can't change about this
They tell us to go distances we can't reach
They practice and they can't preach
I hate my own destiny sometimes
I fall in step but not on the line
I call to power all the previous happiness
By the impossible enormity of smiles and circumstance, I find that
An elegant embrace and a friendly wave are just the simple reminder
That there is something to come back to,
And though it may not be much,
It really is something to the essence of what makes
My life what it is.
ii.
I carry a slight smile with me along my path
When I'm with you I drop the act
Your happiness seems to determine my own
Maybe I have to learn to not be so dependent
But when I feel like I have nothing else to sit back and unwind upon
You are there and make me open like a watery hatch
And I am baffled when you still love me,
And I am ridiculously in love with you because
You can handle me like no one else has been able to,
But I feel like I am breaking you sometimes,
So let me know,
I don't want to hurt you because I simply don't know
How to grasp concepts of everyone else's seemingly normal lives
No one can define normal.
If you can, then I am abnormal
And I apologize from the bottom of my abyss of a heart
I feel like a mess-up of a child from the start. |
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