Thursday, April 16, 2015

I'm not myself

Sometimes my hands they don't 
feel like my own
I need 
someone to love 
I need 
someone to hold
(Red Dust)

Monday, April 13, 2015

The endless sadness that I feel

If I were to believe that we are here for a reason, a mission, mine would be to feel all the sadness of the world. 

Chicago is gorgeous and sad. 

New York is filled with people, yet sadness sips through the concrete, the glass doors, every leaf that ever turned yellow and fell down in Central Park.

I'd like to think that there's a certain beauty in feeling this way. A poetic way of blues.

Not depression that will eventually void me of wholesome love for anything, anyone,
And life.

Friday, April 10, 2015

The life I could have lived

It's one thing to realize that you have turned into the person you hate.

To realize that your soul has become someone you pity, is another great tragedy.