Sometimes,

in the brink of dusk, or

in the midst of dawn,

we sit silently, allowing ourselves to

think, overthink, or perhaps, not think at all.

and we think about life

and we think about love

and we think about every goddamn mistake

and we think about every broken memory

and every little white lie.

 

We seem to think about everything

                              except ourselves,

and what makes us happy.

We seem to think the key to our own happiness

lies in the palm of another soul.

So we’ll try to please everyone

-do what we believe is right

But we end up unhappy

          brokenhearted

          confused

-we no longer believe anything is right.

We think a little longer,

until our thoughts w

    a

       n

                                 d

                                   e

                                     r

right back into reality. Then we cry.

    we cope.

    we sleep.

We finally begin to see our mistakes;

Until we catch a small glimpse

of distorted perfection.

Then we wake up, and

do it all

  a   g   a   i   n.

 

[S.O]