“birth and death are just the bookends, no one explains how to find happiness in between.”

Current mood: restless


My life is a black maze. My white flag is flying high. Visionary in my own mind. Ranting about blown out flames and after-glows. In some other world I am a perfect person. You’ll never know her. Close your eyes and tell me love is real. I press my lips together and wonder whether I am even visible to you. We play pretend and I try to lose focus. My sentiments are whimsical, still dreams of a young bride. My mind is insatiable and possesses me. Are we disillusioned or just enchanted? A n absence of lies only makes me more suspicious. Nothing is ever perfect in this world, ever good enough. I know I am hooked on the boy who makes slaves out of real men. I tie myself to the world with every string I can find. They are weak though and I am forgetful. Never tended to they rip and break. Leaving behind only awkward silence and uncomfortable moments. This maze is dark and treacherous. Dangers in the form of seductive futures and misplaced pasts find us. I am random and that is safer. Return to the beginning. Run from the end.

Everyone hasn’t gone to the moon.
Some have never even seen it.