what is it... here or there?
my sights are still so high
I can't seem to get anywhere but here again
The blasts in my bubbling brain sever me from saying what I want.
sticking up for me. Being my own cheerleader.
I roll my head back and take it, take the virtual blows of the virtual fists.
Feeling still the sting of the leather.
I'm scarred here in my tiny little place, pasting glitter over cruelty and flowers over the bruises.
No one can see them anyway
The panic of not being here and there simultaneously, neither where I'd choose to be.
Obligation and regrets overthrow my senses as if I'm in the state of nearly tears, the moment
right before you break down.
I never do break down.
I owe so much, thanks to those I end up taking for granted, and a big thanks-it-was-fun-but-no-more-for-me-please to those I stick by.
control is not my own. my words are not my own.
I so wish to be my own again.
so what. it's my day. me alone. a big day. 3 decades of my flesh, my blood, my gut, my ignorance.
he and she have always been there, they are my refuge, and I deny them to paste more glitter over rubbish.
wishing will get me nowhere. Doing will at least give me a nudge.
he is there and I am here, not enough wishing and doing and changing can make this any different.
so I'll just do what it is I do best. put on a smile, assume the look of having a good time, and maybe this time I'll go home and
the nearly tears might get nearer.
I can't seem to get anywhere but here again
The blasts in my bubbling brain sever me from saying what I want.
sticking up for me. Being my own cheerleader.
I roll my head back and take it, take the virtual blows of the virtual fists.
Feeling still the sting of the leather.
I'm scarred here in my tiny little place, pasting glitter over cruelty and flowers over the bruises.
No one can see them anyway
The panic of not being here and there simultaneously, neither where I'd choose to be.
Obligation and regrets overthrow my senses as if I'm in the state of nearly tears, the moment
right before you break down.
I never do break down.
I owe so much, thanks to those I end up taking for granted, and a big thanks-it-was-fun-but-no-more-for-me-please to those I stick by.
control is not my own. my words are not my own.
I so wish to be my own again.
so what. it's my day. me alone. a big day. 3 decades of my flesh, my blood, my gut, my ignorance.
he and she have always been there, they are my refuge, and I deny them to paste more glitter over rubbish.
wishing will get me nowhere. Doing will at least give me a nudge.
he is there and I am here, not enough wishing and doing and changing can make this any different.
so I'll just do what it is I do best. put on a smile, assume the look of having a good time, and maybe this time I'll go home and
the nearly tears might get nearer.