I can feel the crooked smile writhing it's way into my view, it's not meaning much right now but i'm sure in time like everything else some sense will be due. And once again I don't like the sound of my own voice but in this traffic that's all that I can hear. I know I've been told that I should see someone about this but maybe that's proof of what I really need: everyone to stop telling me what's right, stop telling me what's under my skin controlling my life. I know the years have drawn past and I'm echoing the same name, but I have control in some sense; I know exactly who's to blame. I feel as if their eyes are watching over me. Waiting for me to make a mistake and give up on everything. You were never one to sympathise with dishonesty, but I'd be lying if I said that any of this was easy. It's hard to think that so much can amount to nothing. It's been such a long time and I've got no proof of happiness. The only thing I can really confirm is that it grips me like a sudden wind chill when I've got no warm clothes. So I cherish my bed to sleep in where I'm calm and the cold just disappears. Away with my thoughts, and the negative connotations, when I wake up though I'll be in the same situation.
So instead of having another lonely night, I'll go spend some money so I can't feel my thoughts. Because that way I will have another story to tell whilst out living these fantasies themselves. We'll laugh and we'll joke and we'll tell pretentious lies, you worry too much just have one drink tonight. "I promise we won't laugh too much, you'll be fine tomorrow." That's what you said last time, look at all my fucking sorrow. I can smell an aroma of perfection from the bar, that long, red unnatural hair is all too much. What is that you said to me, you want to hear a joke? You stopped and you smiled, you laughed, then you spoke.
it hit me hard.
it's like a violent wave collapsing.
so unexpectedly powerful in all of it's truth.
i knew it all along and it was looking at me right in the eyes when you left me so long ago
the answer I'd been looking for wasn't in the blame I'd sought but in taking responsibility for something so drastic
unimaginable thoughts swept across me.
she ran out the room and looked back as she smiled
so imperfect, so crooked, so undefined
i heard a voice yell at me, "hey look here!"
you're looking in the mirror and it's a quarter to three.
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