zoejo
Size. It matters. Sadly in society today outer beauty has become overpowered. The beautiful personalities of people have been lost by the weight they wear on their bones. And not the weight of their image of themselves inside.
I've got a camera in my mind,
with an infinite memory card.
Holding onto all the good
and the bad.
I remember the summer nights. Staying up late, waiting. Hearing the growing rumble of your engine outside in the darkness. Then idling. Knowing that just a few hundred feet and a door kept me from you. And that soon we'd ride off together, into the night, where life was anything but fast asleep.
Your touch is electric,
your kisses are fire.
I'm drowning in a sea
of desire.
Bodies entangled,
Heart beats racing.
Sweat coating
each other's skin.
Can I separate myself,
from the person I was in summer,
to the person that I am now?
The two seem to vine together,
over lapping and intervening.
I can't seem to get go,
to cast over board my summer self.
The one who let loose,
and laughed at caution.
Where the word "no"
was not in her vocabulary.
Summer was a time
of no regrets.
Only moving forward,
never looking back.
Doing things
that she only ever read about,
and never imagined would happen
to her.
Now things have changed once more.
Evolving back into a steady self.
Trying to regain a foothold
on morals and status quo.
Trying to rein in the wild child,
so I can blend in with society.
Hoping that my bright coloring
won't scare you away.
I've been hallowed out.
Emptied to a bare naked shell.
Nothing of me remains,
or nothing of who I think I am.
Who am I anyway?
Who was I?
Can't remember, can't recall.
It's been so long.
What am I? Who?
Did I ever even change at all?
Have you ever wondered, how did religion even start? Who thought of such an absurd idea, and yet such a genius one. Able to control the masses with a single idea of a higher being, that if you do good in this life, you will continue to live on forever up in the clouds. However, if you disobey "his" law, you will be damned to life in hell. Yet, now, in today's world, there are so many hundreds of different religions. Who is to say that only one is the real one, the right one? Who is to say that any of it is true at all?
This curse of comfort
in our compatibility.
When I have no where to turn
I somehow find you.
But you're not my answer,
you're just a rest stop
along the way there.
Can't seem to let you go,
But I can't stand to stay.
You were the little boy,
a handsome man in bloom,
a fallen angel.
Your looks, deceiving.
You were the little boy,
who would set fire
to the wings of butterflies,
and watch they fly
as they burned.
Why? I whispered.
Because.
I wanted to know how
something so beautiful
could be so frail.
These walls can not hold me.
I've broken them down before.
I am a force to be reckoned with,
that I can assure.
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