We’re just kids, who woke up in the wrong generation. Living life in a bubble of perfect, that’s until that bubble hits 17, that’s when we fall, crash amongst the cold concrete beneath us, thoughts come into process, brain tumor, don’t worry I don’t have it, it just feels like I do. Increasing magnitudes of headaches, unanswered questions arise.
A head that was full of stories, now romanticizing drugs, looking for relief, so you hide behind the smoke of your cigarette.
So you go through a one night stand, just to forget. You lie to your parents about the love bites he left, what was his name again?
And of course then you say that you’re just human, that’s just the way this world shaped us to be, but shapes can change, if stars can fall from the sky and slide amongst the dirt of this earth, if diseases can wipe out hundreds just by a touch, if smoke can ruin our lungs, then words, what do you think words can do?
You say they are empty and float away as soon as they leave our lips, then why are they weighing me down, then why do I feel like I’m stuck in a chasm, a tank filling up with words, gasping for air, they’re choking me.
What other wonders can words bring about, I would love to know if there’s a brighter side to this state of eternal desiccation, to this drought.-H