(no subject)
I see now that I'm less unreadable than I thought. In the those seconds of realization, I wondered, where did my porcelain mask run off to? It seems to have disappeared into the night, along with bliss and confidence; probably dancing somewhere off in the rain.
Tell me, dearest. When the rain washes stuff, no-materials-is-the-better-word, where does it go? Into the drain? Or somewhere off to sea? Does someone find it and polish it off? "I think this should on my mantle, this girl's hopes and dreams were beautifully craved out, too-bad-she's-missing-them-right-now." I wonder, what's left of me?
tap-tap-pitter-patter-tap-pitter-patter-tap; the rain's so peaceful now, I wonder if it'd turn on me. What lovely things, we are! How perfectly destructable we are, how perfectly foolish we are in the face of destiny, but oh! I don't believe in destiny nor fate, she foolishly announced. Of course not, darling, they said with fake agreeing smiles that sported those I-know-better-then-you-I've-lived-longer-but-your-hope-is-just-so-cute-I-can't-destory-it!
[crash]
So it was just there all along? Up in a corner, away in a desk. But oh dear, I can't wear it now! It's easier to be vulnerable; I think, I believe, I hope, I lie through my own teeth to decieve myself. But if you repeat it a million times to yourself, you'll end up believe in it, right? It's better this way. Let me be hurt and feel it than feel nothingness.
Tell me, dearest. When the rain washes stuff, no-materials-is-the-better-word, where does it go? Into the drain? Or somewhere off to sea? Does someone find it and polish it off? "I think this should on my mantle, this girl's hopes and dreams were beautifully craved out, too-bad-she's-missing-them-right-now." I wonder, what's left of me?
tap-tap-pitter-patter-tap-pitter-patter-tap; the rain's so peaceful now, I wonder if it'd turn on me. What lovely things, we are! How perfectly destructable we are, how perfectly foolish we are in the face of destiny, but oh! I don't believe in destiny nor fate, she foolishly announced. Of course not, darling, they said with fake agreeing smiles that sported those I-know-better-then-you-I've-lived-longer-but-your-hope-is-just-so-cute-I-can't-destory-it!
[crash]
So it was just there all along? Up in a corner, away in a desk. But oh dear, I can't wear it now! It's easier to be vulnerable; I think, I believe, I hope, I lie through my own teeth to decieve myself. But if you repeat it a million times to yourself, you'll end up believe in it, right? It's better this way. Let me be hurt and feel it than feel nothingness.