if i could record all the thoughts that play through my head, the way my eyes scan the horde of people around, the myriad strings of my made-up playlists with fabricated characters woven into the lyrics. piling up the stack of songs that keep hovering over my lens.
like a tapestry of chronicles written across the pages of my notebook, their capability to fly around obstructed by the clipped corners glued to the walls of my imagination.
girl meets world my screen said. skipping through songs as i sat shotgun. staring at the sky, the pigeon perched on the highway, my hand outstretched was trying to feel the air rushing past the car's windshield.
boarded the flight at 8 am, some people are so ignorant and some seem so scared, and some, like myself, cannot stop staring out the window, the sight of the clouds that got me so excited, as if my lungs were overflowing with air. But i couldn't help but wish you were there.
Embers of the fire burned out
Scattered in the dust lying around
Tired of running round in circles alone
You're just a fragment of my spec, who'll walk away
leaving a trail of smoke
Across my heart, a delusion of home.
the unconventional parts of me that i never truly admit are there, the unconventional parts of me, that i keep masked beneath the paintings of my ripped self.
the unconventional parts of me that make me this whole new different person, "the atrial flutters" as someone i know had said. the flutters that make you dizzy and whimsical to an extent, when you're with them.
and the unconventional parts of me that make me write something so trivial which might seem cliche to an extent, something that starts with :
I told the stars about you
and how you make me feel
when you place your hand ov-
nevermind. I could've had a better start perhaps, but how often do you feel like telling the stars about somebody?
the unconventional parts of me that don't want to pretend, don't want to pretend that you haven't settled in the depths of my bones, cuz what if you have? What if the gravity of the blood rushing through the veins in your arms, breaks apart all my doors and all my walls?
The unconventional parts of me that are drowning in an ocean of you, the part of me that suddenly believes you're my favorite shade of blue.
The unconventional me who doesn't seem to care about the voices, the chaos that she's usually surrounded with.
I look at the swarm of clouds, floating amidst the sky
And wonder why your presence gets me so high
It can't just be your adorable smile, or the way you look at me sometimes
It can't just be the way that look- paints a canvas across my plain dark insides
which have always been a shade of black and gray.
The castle of my thoughts, the pages of my notebook, and how i’m submerged in the tainted colors of your world so strange.
The conventional me would dismiss all these made-up emotions of my slurred and distorted brain.
It would suppress every thought of wanting to slip through the cracks of the space that separates me and you.
The unconventional part of me, that wouldn't really care, even if you were a broken glass that my skin cuts through.
留言