“It’s always good to know the world is beautiful when you’re happy, but it’s even better when the world looks beautiful when finally, you’re happy.”
I promise that these tears,
My midnight weeping,
Are for you.
I’m crying for you,
That you might be here.
“One of the things I’ve had trouble convincing myself of is that it’s okay to hurt because apparently it helps us to grow from our pain…When the rain poured down from the heavens, it was at once that all became bliss and beautiful. Paradise.”
Originally, I guess I was the one,
Waiting for you to turn towards me.
But it turned out that I couldn’t be there,
Anymore for you to turn to.
I made you free from one more option.
But maybe your decisions,
Were set in stone,
So why did it always feel like the opposite?
How am I supposed to tell them that I simply don’t want be like them? That I want to be free and it’s all I desire. I know that from freedom comes the sensation of peace. But they won’t listen. They force me to do what they want so that they can get what they want. But it seems all so wrong to me in my mind. If it is wrong, then I am not the one at fault. If I am wrong, I may be at fault but I don’t think that I’ll ever stop fighting and rejecting what is being offered.
These highs came every week,
I used to believe it was chance,
That I found what I needed,
For the excitement to begin.
But now it was part of the plan,
I can alternate,
Switch and change what began,
As the dream,
Make it more beautiful and sweet,
Rule it like an emperor,
Or give it up,
Maybe I won’t do that,
Just wait to see what the months,
You can’t be tested,
Because I guess you’re already,
What they say, is perfect.
And I can’t trust myself,
To put it into words.
But I can’t bottle it up,
And I’m glad I’m noticed,
But when I’m not,
It hurts more than a blade.
More so, I’m enduring it,
I’d be lying if I had said it was easy,
I spent too long reading number plates,
Stranger lonely on the roads,
I just stared at the signs,
Not finding any good enough for me.
But I’ll admit in the end it was beautiful.
Like watching the Sun set,
Somehow knowing it would rise again,
And I would ride alone.
A poem; too many words, but I want,
To write them all but I’d end up lost.