I have this mood I like a lot that keeps me. And in revisitation it knows me so it’s like it’s home again. No more worries. I just breathe again. To hum it and to sing it to yourself as if there’d be somebody else hiding in a drawer to surprise and say that they wish you’d do it more but you don’t and that’s a sad sad thought. To me that the answer just for living is the answer just for growing smaller.. No one bleeds what they don’t believe. And where we should be dancing in the flooded streets.. We’re sleeping in the corner of a room nobody wants to see.
I’m not so damaged anymore, screaming, but more scarred and bobbing my head to a song nobody else likes the way I do. And it’s calmingly and soberly nostalgic just to sit alone and wish I weren’t like I always used to do. The feeling that I missed has come to me. And once again I find myself aware of just how old I am and just how young I am, and just how little time I have or have ever had to listen to the things he had to say to me. I’m done with that and I’m done with me being so unstable. Time to grow and time to feel. Time to know exactly who I am and who I want to be. I will hold onto that and die for that, and I will rage against that night the way I read about and loved.
