I feel bubbles.
I feel Sunshine,
Stupidly happy-
The emotion with
No rational reasoning.
I feel bubbles.
I feel perfect,
And confident-
Flawless artwork,
Every mistake embraced.
I feel bubbles.
I feel c'llected,
Cool and nonchalant-
"I'm just special,
It's really nothing new."
I feel bubbles.
I feel secret,
Secretive spy, I-
Tell only one,
Then the secret's mine to
Hold.
That feeling where bubbles tingle through your bloodstream, pushing through your veins and you're aware of you. Just knowing of you. And those bubbles are so strong, so powerful and wonderful that they're just aching to burst out of you at any moment- but then they'll be gone. In lesser quantities, at least. Given away to others as you share them. And you think maybe, just maybe, I can keep them all to myself.
YOU ARE READING
Translation
PoesieThere are days where I get so confused or befuddled that my thoughts all come out in puddles, raining backwards and forewords, sideways and upways I pick up a pen and I pick up a notebook and when I'm done the whole world looks A little brighter...
