another meaningless entry
sometimes i'd like to live in my dreams. pull myself tight into a ball that no one can break. not even if they tried and told me everything i ever wanted to hear. because when you live in your dreams you can be anything the world you live in can look like a rainbow or a magazine with it's skinny fake models and colorful canveses of pictures of different forms and words. if i lived in my dream there wouldn't be anyone who had something different. there wouldn't be the rich and the famous and the beautiful and gorgeous and girls with long hair and lips that crave attention and boys with longing eyes that only want to be held until their hearts are full. the sky would be orange and the trees would be filled with music we all love and the houses would be made of clouds because we all know that clouds make us feel like floating and we would be floating, together. and love wouldn't be painful but beautiful and free and it'll be different each time we fall into it. everyone would know exactly what's happening and what's wrong without question and they wouldn't need to hear the answer to every question the world has created through war stories and sad songs that never seemed to find the ending to it's destruction. if only i could live in my dreams, then i'd be safe forever.
safe from myself. safe from love that kills me from myself. safe from boys with evil eyes and a wandering heart that can never only belong to just one person. safe from fake people whose only intetions are to hurt and watch you fall without being there to catch the pieces. but i don't live in my dreams, and reality starts to set in and my dreams begin to fade and i never quite understand how i come back to the reality of broken hearts and sad words. so i keep everything to myself. keep my dreams in my head never revealing to anyone exactly how i feel and why i feel them.
i'm a cardboard box, if i haven't told you before. feelings are for the weak and i'm one of them. i don't like love and i don't like opening myself up to people. everyone has secrets. but i ask you, can you handle the ones i could share with you over one sitting of coffee?
i didn't think so.
safe from myself. safe from love that kills me from myself. safe from boys with evil eyes and a wandering heart that can never only belong to just one person. safe from fake people whose only intetions are to hurt and watch you fall without being there to catch the pieces. but i don't live in my dreams, and reality starts to set in and my dreams begin to fade and i never quite understand how i come back to the reality of broken hearts and sad words. so i keep everything to myself. keep my dreams in my head never revealing to anyone exactly how i feel and why i feel them.
i'm a cardboard box, if i haven't told you before. feelings are for the weak and i'm one of them. i don't like love and i don't like opening myself up to people. everyone has secrets. but i ask you, can you handle the ones i could share with you over one sitting of coffee?
i didn't think so.