alexdee
Is it really worth it?
Opening your heart?
only to have it taken away along with everything you've always known
because you let trust blind you and happiness take your head over like anesthesia
There's a hole in my chest where my heart should be, but he stole it, and refuses to give it back.
I guess I shouldn't have opened myself up so quickly
I really just didn't want to wake up that morning. It was the loud rumbling of whatever IT was that woke me up. I still remember hearing the screams, smoke filling the air, choking my lungs. I couldn't even hear myself after a while behind the squealing of sirens, the blood curling shrieks of people, the cries for help, the sullen silence that lingered in my home. I can't say more about it, it makes me cry.
I'm an architect.
Scratch that, I'm an artist.
I'm a dreamer, a thinker, a creator, a screamer
I think I might even just be the same as a plain old building.
I tell the things others don't dare to
I dream out loud
I yell to myself when my head's in the clouds
I knock myself down when I'm getting too proud
And when I realize that no one's around
to see me grow and bustle and boom,
I lock myself in a solid state
stick my mind in a solid room
and don't come out until dusk is done
and the sun is gone
and everyone has gone to bed.
writing since 2012 · 5 entries · 3 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Alex showed up.
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the words Alex reaches for
architectwhateverhomeloudsolidbehindhearttypedadpickblueprintsprojectpaperhatsunderstanddrawings