You know me with 3 am and shut doors
Cigarettes and sketch books
You know me in the rain
Calming down this restless heart
You know that pink journal, pages filled with empty noises
But
You haven't heard those unsaid voices
Lost in the lights of a smoke drenched city
You haven't heard those glaring eyes brimming with tears
That voice in the back of a drunk ; lose it
Lost in the hypnotic echos of this subway
I remain still with flaming desires and a faint hope
Runaway, Fly away, Fade away, Spirit away
They know I'm a freshly filled barrel of oak tree
They are delusional in the worst way
But
You know me baby, don't you?
I choose the rain to face the thunder
I choose the smoke to face the fire
I choose 3am to face the darkness before dawn
I choose the empty noises to face the chaos
I choose myself before before them
So I choose to stand after I've been trampled
And if only I could
I'd make a deal with God
Place the bait of endless hardships
Even if I lose I'll put on a show everytime
Like a fighter jet in the air
Like somebody's best of all time
and other's absolute nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
To the me of 100 time
PoetryA story for myself of times that held me still and sore. When I needed comfort I got it even though it was a few years later from my own self who went back and forth from time to time.
