contradictions
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Is there a point
In living in this world?
Or does this world have a
Point, a point
That I must climb
The trecherous mountains
In order to reach?
There is love, and there is hate
Too much on your plate?
How did this happen?
Can’t you give it back?
That was a bit careless
Next time turn your back
Can’t you delegate?
Do you overcommit?
I hold the gun in my handsits pointed towards innocenceI can't control my thoughtswhen and why did it come to this?
I am a woman of contradictions,
Some simple, some strange.
And though sometimes tiring,
I doubt I’ll ever change.
________________________
I am closing walls and open doors,
A memory painted on the windows of your soul
In any color you like, as long as it is a shade of black.
I am discontinuous, a broken mirror
I wanted them to see me as art
to stand in awe and marvel
at the thought that such beauty existed
but i am not a monet
i am not a picasso
and as they realized that
Everyone is different,
I, just a little more than anyone else.
To me, I am
lost
insecure
hopeless
scared
To my family
lacking
imperfect
perfect
HAHA
No Filter
Haha
Pure face
Haha
Hidden disgust
Haha
Beautiful lies
Haha
Look at my face
haha. .
my laugh is weird. .
haha. .
I'm just kinda queer
People tell you to speak your mind, but not to be rude.
They do not want to hear lies, but say they want the truth.
Honesty comes off as being rude, the truth comes off as being too blunt.
Nobody really knows what happens behind the curtains,
or behind the doors...
Dramas unfold and storylines disappear.
The true vulnerability of your existence becomes clear.
I never understood,
The appeal of a sleeping face,
People,
They sleep all kinds of ways,
With their mouths half open,
Drooling like dogs in the summer,
Or even snoring,
How can I feel everything and nothing at the same time?
How can I be loved, but still feel all alone?
How can I be smart, but act so stupid?
How can I be stressed and frustrated, yet appear to be calm?