i find myself missing your bed
I can't remember when it was that I decided to live my life more by the theoretics of a situation than it's reality, but I feel it now in everything that I do. Once you begin, you question how you ever got along differently. I see other people and shake my head knowing they don't see what I do. And the ones that do? We just smile and nod at each other as we slip past one another; acknowledging some unspoken truth that is both understood and displayed wordlessly.
The shits of the situation is existing in this epiphany and not being capable of telling those whom do not understand. Somewhere the path leads inside each person, and it is at that point that they must each solve their complex and personal puzzle to discover where it continues.
Once you do... you know that life is not the destination. Life is the ride. Learn to enjoy that and the rest fades to details written on notebook paper left in a study hall with this little puddle of drool next to it. Waiting there for the next crew to toss it into life's waste basket. Problems, trials, daily grinds...they all end up on that same sheet of crumpled paper.
It's the smiles that remain. Memories of oceans and sky that blend together to one. Of water licking its way down an icicle or a snowflake melting on your lover's nose; squeezing it's life into a new clear liquidity. Laying entwined- undiscovered. It is that hopeful broken vine that slithers from between rusting bricks and kisses the air.
What we don't touch, we cannot feel
The shits of the situation is existing in this epiphany and not being capable of telling those whom do not understand. Somewhere the path leads inside each person, and it is at that point that they must each solve their complex and personal puzzle to discover where it continues.
Once you do... you know that life is not the destination. Life is the ride. Learn to enjoy that and the rest fades to details written on notebook paper left in a study hall with this little puddle of drool next to it. Waiting there for the next crew to toss it into life's waste basket. Problems, trials, daily grinds...they all end up on that same sheet of crumpled paper.
It's the smiles that remain. Memories of oceans and sky that blend together to one. Of water licking its way down an icicle or a snowflake melting on your lover's nose; squeezing it's life into a new clear liquidity. Laying entwined- undiscovered. It is that hopeful broken vine that slithers from between rusting bricks and kisses the air.
What we don't touch, we cannot feel