all runs rampant and the things we believe become nothing more than makeshift atrocities stamped with our own seal of approval. we look at them - these people, these scoundrels - and wonder how they took our lives and contorted them into plasticine replicas of everything we didn't want to achieve. and we sit and ponder how the simple sound of rain bears a weight on our hearts. how the smallest detail in our morning can unravel and break us apart. so we look to our sandboxes, where we fought for our castles and kingdoms. where we reigned as kings and queens. we look to our sandboxes and breath heavy sighs.
we want our thrones back.
teetering between one extreme and the next, days pass and you wonder if they were ever even there. you stalk the ground looking for traces of eraser residue, thinking someone made a mistake and cleared the wrong portions of the portrait that is your life. you fumble over memories and the tasks you promised yourself into doing, but nothing connects and there is no proof to it existing - nor is there anything to argue otherwise. you remember one thing - the one thing that has become the solution to all your equations. the solution with no stable meaning. it's something you always come back to; something you recognize as being your own. and if you could, you'd stop their heart from beating and offer yours. just to be closer to them.
just to be with them.
you can't look away - your eyes are tapered open. similar to those days in your youth when you would pedal down hills on bicycles, only to realize the handlebars were holding you and your legs were being forced into motion. it goes back to the simple question of what is the best choice: the safer route or the quicker route. though even speed comes in moderation. even time slips away when you have more of it.
even birds forget to fly.
we grow listless under the sun; a drought that glues our skin to our veins and tongues to the highbeams of our mouths. children gather at our feet, collecting the saliva that drips from our chins in thick globs as it has already turned to paste; glitter pitted in their palms. all you can focus on is the thirst that's gathering in your throat. the thirst that whistles everytime you breathe in, though not even water can soothe it. a simple taste of all you'd like and it would go away. just a taste and the disease won't spread. and when you walk into a room, you disappear. you blend with the furniture and the imitation celtic tapestry that clings to the walls. and when you walk into a room, you're walking out. you've left the second your foot hit the ground. you've already gone away.
but you'll be back.
we gallavant through streets, completely null of the whirlwind world passing by us and adapt to our instincts of invincibility as time runs backwards, in circles. what's to become of us is not to be known - not for the time being. i suppose that's how it's been fated for everyone. wait your turn and the answers will dawn. i've realized it's not answers that i'm looking forward to, but merely a form of continuity. something that just doesn't end abruptly while you were convinced of its immortality. what i've come to learn is that the theory of such everlasting concepts can be applied to nothing more than the future. all else dies off, but the future will continue to live on. and your yesterday may have gone astray, swiped from thoughts and memories.
but i'll still hold on to your tomorrow.
these forgotten concepts, these rendered thoughts, one can merely think of all that was not. or all that was, but went unnoticed. i've been weighed down by complications, lately. questions, more so, that spark up ideas and thoughts of things that may have been not too long ago. questions primarily dabbling in love. and i wonder what happened to that feeling - that feeling of utter contempt that made everything weightless and worthwhile. what happened to looking out of windows rimmed with optimism, into a world of complete surety? all i can do is question. how one can claim so much and take it all back, but is unable to let go. as though they're searching for that final piece in you. that final little bit that looks them square in the eye and breathes, "i'm it. you've found me."
and you can keep me.
