Don’t shoot the messenger; at one point he was exactly what you wanted. Now he simply lies down in a field and stares at the stars. He believes if he looks close enough he will find a map. He will use it to find his way back into your good graces. He is unsure whether he wants to be there in the first place but he knows that first place is always a great place to be. There is a silent prayer that is heard only by God and the grass, it asks for understanding in terrible times.
Don’t shoot the messenger; he stood for something once. Now he falls for everything that is laid in front of him in a convincing manner. He finds that he wants to believe in some trivial things more than he wants to believe in himself. He found hope at the end of a string, it was tied around his finger so that he would never forget where he’s been and it would constantly remind him of where he was going.
Don’t shoot the messenger; he was beautiful at one point. Now he listens to old songs that remind him of a familiar moment from his past. They go back many years and they bring warmth to his soul. He was just a child but the music was inside of him. It poured out of him onto paper much like a bottle of ink would that had tipped over because it was balanced on a fragile wall. It was the same wall that guarded his heart and when the crack crept up the exterior there was no way to stop the destruction within. He found something amidst the destruction, it was pure and it was whole and it was hand delivered by the messenger.
no answers when there’s no questions
You heard it and it registered in that spot in your brain where all the bad things sit. You said “what” when you knew exactly “what” was spoken. It was uttered so quickly that you needed a moment to find your bearings. It’s easy to get lost when the compass in your head is on the fritz. It’s easy to slip up when you’re shaken in that way. A fleeting glimpse into a bright future can sometimes send you straight back to your dark past. A whisper of companionship won’t always help you sleep better when there’s lonesome times on the horizon.
The morning came and the lights of the streets retired. No one knows where they go but they always come back when the black seems poised to take over. It’s one of the only constants in life. It may not be fitting but it may be the only place the darkness is temporarily defeated. In a room with a window that lets in just enough light to see the notebook in your hand; you draw what you see when you close your eyes. You draw what you see when your eyes are closed for you. The faint sound of charcoal meeting paper is soothing and even the loud noises in the adjacent rooms can’t pull you from the trance. The slamming door and the silhouette however, will do just that.
The time has come to be silent. The time has come to shutdown and shut off your sense. You shuffle inside your head to find the compass that fell from the center of your brain. If you can just find the right direction you’ll be okay, at least that is what you tell yourself, you haven’t found it yet but it must be the case. If years of looking can only lead to sadness then years of finding have to lead to something better. The pressure is getting to be too much and you need to release in the only way you can. A scream falls on deaf ears and your eyes open. The first tear blazes a trail, a pathway for many more to follow. Their destination is unknown but they seem to be in quite a hurry to get there. If there was wind they would dry but there is no wind, there is only breath.
This was never what you would have expected when you were small and innocent. It was never what you imagine when you were asked what you wanted to be when you “grew up”. It would seem that things turned out much better in the movie version of your life. This was neve a film and it hardly passes for a story because it happens every day. Silence is the most deadly weapon of all and it is being used to win a war at home every day. There is a voice that wants to be heard every day. There is a moment for change every day. Finally, there is worth inside of you and it should be felt every day.
does this argument make me look fat?
Who’s more right? The one who says they are or the one who admits they’re not? Is it the one who screams the loudest or the one who speaks softly? Is it the one who sputters out an eternities worth of words or the one who creates an impact with only a few? Who cares? It’s a hard place to escape when you’re fighting for perfection with imperfect tools and flawed devices. You should know one thing; being right doesn’t win the war. It’s like reading an old newspaper. The news is far from spine tingling and no one is mourning in the worry of it any longer. The older it feels the less it impacts… that is key.
I’ll exchange being right for being happy. Sometimes the focus of an argument is over the most petty of things but it’s usually the little things that can tear you apart. A tiny crack on a windshield can render the entire space of glass useless if not tended to in a timely manner. There is something within the simplest of analogies that can change your life. If you can just grasp what really matters in this world you’ll be able to walk alongside anyone you choose. You will not fall behind and you will not race ahead. You’ll walk towards the future in perfect harmony. You won’t waste time in the past. The past is finished, it’s time to move on… today.
Do you feel the energy that flows through you when you’re holding onto so much negativity? They say the camera adds 10 pounds but the burden of unrequited grief adds 5 times that amount and it collects solely on your shoulders. People will be oblivious to the anger and resentment that sits behind your eyes. It will grow inside of you like a cancer but others are too busy watching their own grass grow to notice and there’s nothing wrong with that in the slightest. If it hurts, collect those thoughts, speak them to ears that will hear and to hearts that will care. You’re the only one who can decide how much it’s worth to be right; but in the end, it will be a weight that you will carry and one that you’ll carry alone.