I’m not something to look at when you get bored. I’m not a stone. I have a heart. A heart that beats, a heart that cares, and most importantly–a heart that feels. I don’t have time to play around with general thoughts.
I am a time machine.
I have different ways of letting you know I’m still here, while making myself seem distant enough for comfort. I don’t know why I am the way I am. I’m completely insane.
My mind is not like yours. I think in ways of rationality, pleasure, and complete paragraphs. However, each sentence may not contain a complete thought.
You wonder about me. You try to get inside my head and read everything closen off to the rest of the world. My mind is locked up tight with a bicycle chain. You break it. Inside, you find blank pages, unwritten. On the corner of a college ruled notebook, you write “I’ve always loved you.”
It’s not true.
The way you blink your eyes before you’re about to cry. I don’t believe it. Not for one second. Tears are not chosen. Raindrops are polluted.
Don’t look at me.
I can’t see through you. I don’t want to. I’m 90% space, 140% evolved mushroom. Can you taste the grass when you chew on my insecurities? I hope you can. I hope it’s bitter.
Make me believe.
I want to believe in something fake. Lets make our own reality. Lets live on clouds in a remote continent called “Choice”. I choose to have low self-esteem. It’s not as lonely by myself.
These words aren’t the words of a low-life scumbag. I’m not worthless. You are. Shape me. Change me. Make me into a mirror image. I’m always looking in the mirror.
I can’t see your reflection.
Quit hiding behind your shadow. You hope I’ll follow you. I won’t. I’m staying right here, wandering around while trying to find myself. Maybe I’m in this mirror somewhere. Maybe I’m lost.
I’m parked securely in this bicycle rack. Chained to my own bicycle. Unchain me. Please unchain me. I can’t break this mirror. Break it with a stone. I can’t follow your shadow. Please stop running.
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