I wake up and find the ruffled-up me,
untidy hair, swollen eyes, chapped lips, perfectly unmatched clothes,
well a totally shabby lad.
I stare at my reflection with the utmost contempt, and there you are;smiling, glaring and appreciating me.
I'm starting to lose myself into that train of thoughts that include you, that include us and I start smiling as well.
Oh no time, I have to retreat back to practicality.
Putting on the old-fashioned adornments and adorning the odd-fashioned manner, I step out of my sparsely populated and overtly protected sphere to struggle through yet another challenge, to 'live' through the day.
Yeah I'm asked to fit in, as much as I loathe it I'm bound to do that. That has become the way of the world, you like or not, you can or cannot, you have to "fit in".
Stop smiling, it does something wonderful to me and right now I cannot afford anything happening wonderful to me, as I said, I have to fit into the way of the world.
I'm stuck, I'm hate-loving the fact of my simultaneous destruction and creation; where I'm the silent spectator and I'm the happily willful victim. And there you are distracting me. Let me do what I'm expected to; everyone's not like you to not judge me and make me feel safe home.
Stop flashing that magical smile, stop striking that merciless glare; why do you find such happiness in creating a all different me?
You smile and I swoon away, you create a funny me.
You speak and I repeat your words like an enchantment, you create an insane me.
You walk past and I'm left following the trails of your essence, you create a hysteric me.
Just the thought of your one touch and I'm already heaving breathless,to be lost and found in you, you create a pathetic me.
It's you who create this fantastic blankness in me when I'm expected to strive through the suffocating crowd; it's you who create this catastrophe in and around, making me well attuned to it, when I'm expected to live through this dead commotion.
How atrocious you are? I dislike this weakness that has allowed you to invade through my soul, seep into my blood, make my heartbeat skip and then all courageous, claim the whole of my being.
I'm becoming what you are making of me, as much as I dislike that I'm being subject to such control, I'm loving it's you who is controlling me.
And yes, I love and hate the way you create me.
The creator of my stark abyss and the destroyer of my tranquility,
You, what do I call You.....
untidy hair, swollen eyes, chapped lips, perfectly unmatched clothes,
well a totally shabby lad.
I stare at my reflection with the utmost contempt, and there you are;smiling, glaring and appreciating me.
I'm starting to lose myself into that train of thoughts that include you, that include us and I start smiling as well.
Oh no time, I have to retreat back to practicality.
Putting on the old-fashioned adornments and adorning the odd-fashioned manner, I step out of my sparsely populated and overtly protected sphere to struggle through yet another challenge, to 'live' through the day.
Yeah I'm asked to fit in, as much as I loathe it I'm bound to do that. That has become the way of the world, you like or not, you can or cannot, you have to "fit in".
Stop smiling, it does something wonderful to me and right now I cannot afford anything happening wonderful to me, as I said, I have to fit into the way of the world.
I'm stuck, I'm hate-loving the fact of my simultaneous destruction and creation; where I'm the silent spectator and I'm the happily willful victim. And there you are distracting me. Let me do what I'm expected to; everyone's not like you to not judge me and make me feel safe home.
Stop flashing that magical smile, stop striking that merciless glare; why do you find such happiness in creating a all different me?
You smile and I swoon away, you create a funny me.
You speak and I repeat your words like an enchantment, you create an insane me.
You walk past and I'm left following the trails of your essence, you create a hysteric me.
Just the thought of your one touch and I'm already heaving breathless,to be lost and found in you, you create a pathetic me.
It's you who create this fantastic blankness in me when I'm expected to strive through the suffocating crowd; it's you who create this catastrophe in and around, making me well attuned to it, when I'm expected to live through this dead commotion.
How atrocious you are? I dislike this weakness that has allowed you to invade through my soul, seep into my blood, make my heartbeat skip and then all courageous, claim the whole of my being.
I'm becoming what you are making of me, as much as I dislike that I'm being subject to such control, I'm loving it's you who is controlling me.
And yes, I love and hate the way you create me.
The creator of my stark abyss and the destroyer of my tranquility,
You, what do I call You.....
No comments:
Post a Comment