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i miss having someone to talk to.
you make me feel like a poem.
it’s subtle, sharp around the edges,
but only because it keeps me safe.
To the outside world, exhuberant.
To her core, obliterated.
From what was once controlled by all,
From a transparent existance,
To beauty blooming in unexpected places.
Like a rock she stands without the support of the ground
She has walls built three million feet high
Neither words nor complaints hardly ever escape her mouth
She can love and hate but not make a sound
Ignore the person behind the curtain.
See only who stands in front of it.
The one viewed by all.
But when you look at this curtain you can't help but think of who is behind.
Eyes cast toward the windowUnseeingPretending to gaze outward, downwardAt patchwork buildings and trafficUnheard through hospital wallsYet you remember the soundLike the blood rushing through your ears
The stress of perfection showed upon my face as I gazed at my reflection, but I wasn't perfect. I had become a master of deception, writing lies in the book of life all to create a false perception.
I'm going through the motions
And I don't know why.
This whole feeling is atrocious
But I can't even hide.
I'm smiling in the physical
But crying all day.
Must be something spiritual
As the days go by, God continues to be my teacher...
displaying the strongest of challenges to my eye, like cheering fans on the bleachers...
They say i'm way too young
To find the man that is the one
If i dont find him i'm going to burst
That is why i put my God first
