Like a freshly opened wound, it pours out all my warm ambitions. I want to pour myself over the world.
It's been recently brought to my attention that I, strangely enough, simultaneously appeal to the light and dark side of people. An unlikely blessing and a curse. But you cower like a defenseless puppy in my long, dark shadow. It's unjustified, because I am intensely devoted to my ideals. I desire to leave things better than I found them. No matter how much it hurts, or strains my senses. No matter the insurmountable climb and fall. Better in some way.
I hate it when people confuse having a wild heart with a damaging inability to be content. They are not one in the same and it's a turn-off. Through attainment they are exponentially different. And through appreciation they stand alone...one on it's own legs, and the other on it's shaky insecurities.
A Costa Rican moon hangs low, suspended like a blade, ready to drop and sever the ties of a pyschological crisis, bound and weighted down in the depths. I've seen what they've seen, I've heard the poetic words. The words are like music. Angel dialect, a chorus of praise beset on those willing to hear. Those willing to sing with the words are those who run free and their hearts are wild.
3 comments:
i thought the song was "there's a hold in the bucket, dear LIZA"
Ummmm. Nope. Wrong.
It's okay though. I used to think Eddie Vedder, while singing "Evenflow," said..."evenflooooow, I'm aroused by butterflies."
Obviously, that's not what he says.
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