I dunno if I am supposed to pretend I don’t feel like shit right now or not.
If I am supposed to not read into everything I see and hear.
If I should be the only one who can’t picture the end quite yet.
If I should be the only one who is not so disgusted by a face I remove it from site or a memory I push it from mind.
If I should post this on facebook, although irony would have it so anyway.
I dunno if I should feel like the first day I felt the word growing and trying to push its way out of my mouth, that word we dance around in our hearts, but instead a twisted version tearing me apart.
As if the butterfly’s grew wings of steel and are tearing at my insides to reveal, nothing, nothing more than a few weeks.
A few weeks that meant more than a memory long forgotten 2 and a half years ago.
A memory of sheep and strawberries and spongebob.
I don’t know if you are going to run.
I don’t know if it is because of what you heard or because to feel what i feel as well is scarier to be with than to have none.
I don’t know why I can’t just stfu, but the stupid part is, I don’t know if I am being stupid for understanding.
I don’t know if I am being stupid for having hope.
I don’t know if I am being a fool for just sitting and not standing.
I just don’t know if as the day goes on the things in your mind become worse or the same as before.
I don’t know if you still want me.
I don’t know if when you hear something in a movie that is stupid and cheesy if you think of me and not push it from mind.
I don’t know if this is doing damage.
I don’t know if it’s going to be the same.
I just don’t know.
But I am a fool, as I have stated before, a fool from a Shakespearean play. So I will, because my heart tells me too, just let time, have its way. Watching the world, seeing some truth, and making a gest here and there.
“It’s not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it.” -Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Time well wasted for now.
