too good to be true?

Too much sugar, too little salt. A little too bitter, not quite sour enough.
Too much charisma, too little charm. A little too nice, not quite naughty enough.

I thought I knew what I wanted - that I had it all perfectly mapped out in my mind. A visionary, almost a prophecy, one that I told myself could ultimately be fulfilled by someone. Well, I'm beginning to question the blueprints. It seems like they are crumbling at the creaking base, fraying at the loose ends, peeling at the crusty edges. Paying for his mistakes, others are having to apologize for him, make up for what he stole and never returned. Worst part is, they get nothing out of the deal either. False bargains and frauds, I feel more of a wanted criminal with each repeat and every echo.

Sometimes it's easier just to not answer the door. Let the chimes ring, let 'em finish their little clockwork melody. Don't forget to close the blinds, just don't close the case.

... And all the while waiting, ever so patiently. All the while, clinging to dwindling promises.

gaze

Your eyes, they teem with burdens. Burdens unspeakable, heaped beneath layer upon layer of densely-packed, coarse hues and gradients. These stacked and shaded gradients, you keep sealed tightly at the seams, just so there's no room for poking holes and crushing air bubbles. Perhaps I'll never know how it is that you bear the sweat and ache of burden, how you muster the courage to liberate others before self. Jaded to the feeling, your affliction becomes familiar. Self-neutralizing, maybe even numbing.

I've hoped you're alright and not horribly disappointed, carrying all that by yourself, with but a scanty pool of souls in the world to stand alongside you. Upon the raw flesh of one back, lays the weight of the whole world.

restless

I can't fall sleep. Maybe it's because trying to sleep means having to remember how fleeting yesterday was, how empty today is, and how unsung tomorrow may be. Anything leading up to sleep is as much a blow of reality, as sleep itself is an escape from reality.

My thoughts tonight are scattered, fluttering pieces of garbage in the wind. I'm at a loss as to where to go from here before it's far too late. Too late to turn back without putting someone else's emotions on the line.

Playing with fire?

deep city lights

I'm glad these days the sun shines a bit longer, so the days feel a bit more liveable. It's harder to get lost when the lights are guiding you, igniting your bones.

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for reasons unknown

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