There are things in your house that you don't own
Things you own that you don't use
People you know that you never speak to
Friends you have who dont know who you are
There are days you wish you could remember
Nights that feel like they'll never end
Places you could get to before you wanted to
Areas that are secret for no good reason
There are boxes filled with dust
Things before love you keep around you
Tools that fix what's not important
Levers, and pullies, and things that lift
There are times when it's fine to be afraid
Times when it seems right, and it is right
Things you do that feel like obligation
Love that feels wrong, and it is wrong
There are roads you never drive down
Your whole life you'd never need to
Sadness creeps up and fills your chest
Like water and then you're drowning
If you don't leave when it feels right
I dont even know what to tell you
The people who don't talk only stare
You can't look back it isn't fair
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4 comments:
I officially move that there has to be a warning period before any of us writes a poem for our blogs. I am getting bowled over by all this unexpected sincerity.
This one got me better right now.
I think im just going to refer to the nova experience as post-highschool. Not that that has anything to do with the poem.
We gotta go to a ball game, Marshall.
And what political persuasion do you consider your pets?
Right field sightlines are the only things I want to see. Let's go to ten ballgames.
I would say Missy is a lazy fascist. Her dreams of world domination has been repressed. Sometimes a kitty gets depressed.
You actually drown though? I feel like sinking and then I throw a rock at something. Probably another rock.
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