I am standing on the sideline watching myself. I am falling. I'm going to crash and hit hard. I know it. But I keep watching.
Maybe I'm a dreamer. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic. Maybe I'm just a fool for thinking that the ride will be worth the crashing.
But what if I didn't?
What if i parked my car in the driveway and stayed in my suburban house?. I'd be breathing, but would you call it living?
Maybe I want my breath to be stolen away.
I'd pick the fool anyday.
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Unfiltered
PoetryA collection of drabbles, unfiltered and straight from the heart, that doesn't belong anywhere but here.
