A Short Letter to My Pain
Dear Pain, Sweet...Mine,
Leave the room, leave your house, go somewhere far away and go play with your paint there. Take away the fake laughter. Take away the anger and coldness that you hide behind when you feel defenseless. Scrape off all the old paint, for it has rotted and is beginning to affect your core. Once all the old paint is gone, then paint yourself anew, paint your self something nice, but not to showy, mysterious, but not too dark. Paint yourself believable.
Will you do this? I very much doubt it.
Somehow, somehow, somehow.
But it will please me very much, and in time I think you too shall be pleased.
They do not have to believe in me, I do not need their good faith. If only they would believe me, for I have no faith in their "belief" in me. If only they would trust me, not in me. That sort of thing rots.
- Believable
Leave the room, leave your house, go somewhere far away and go play with your paint there. Take away the fake laughter. Take away the anger and coldness that you hide behind when you feel defenseless. Scrape off all the old paint, for it has rotted and is beginning to affect your core. Once all the old paint is gone, then paint yourself anew, paint your self something nice, but not to showy, mysterious, but not too dark. Paint yourself believable.
Will you do this? I very much doubt it.
Somehow, somehow, somehow.
But it will please me very much, and in time I think you too shall be pleased.
They do not have to believe in me, I do not need their good faith. If only they would believe me, for I have no faith in their "belief" in me. If only they would trust me, not in me. That sort of thing rots.
- Believable