Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Nobody is looking at you, but me

Now darling, don't you worry
This town is not a jury
Just mind your business and do as you please
Because nobody is looking at you, but me

And please don't become antsy
If you aren't what someone fancies
There's more to your eyes than what they perceive
Because nobody is looking at you, like me

And baby, don't go hiding
When paranoia starts biting
Just know that no one is even tall enough to grasp the branches of your tree
And nobody is looking at you, but me


Fangirling Over You

I want to be your first thought and your last.
What you want for your future, and from your past.
I hope that you write me a song for the ages, and I'll write metaphors of you for pages.

When I face disappointment, I think of your eyes,
And it makes me see beauty in things I despise.
And when you are feeling relaxed and care-free, I hope you close your eyes and also think of me.


You Make Me Feel So Young

I'm alive with the passion in your eyes.
And I shouldn't be surprised this time
When I find that you're capable of lies.
Your eyes embody the universe.
Unafraid, I'm completely immersed.
Thinking maybe someone had the urge to lift my curse,
When you found me at my worst.
But who am I kidding?
Too focused on winning,
I'm forgetting to realize this is just the beginning.
There's a part to this art that's based on innocence,
And I need to start ignoring the dissonance.
I'm so concentrated on that I haven't won
When I haven't even tried to run,
And we've hardly begun.



"We are never as vulnerable as when we love." -Sigmund Freud

"Being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure." -Bob Marley

"Being an artist means forever healing your own wounds and at the same time endlessly exposing them." -Annette Messager
I want to feel what it's like to be yours,
but I'm still captured in soiled memories of pillow talk and the smile lines in his eyes.

Compose and Compare

How does one not compare a new lover to what came before?
How, when he runs his fingers through my hair and kisses my forehead, do I not think about how you used to?
And at that, how do I not compare the softness of it, or the speed of the heartbeats?
When he intertwines his legs with mine, all I feel is the difference, not the butterflies in my stomach.
And when we make love, how do I not notice that we aren't?
Because I realize he doesn't love me, and I notice the fear in his eyes of me, and the way he doesn't look at me like you.

How can I move on when every step of the way I am intrinsically drawn to something I remember but can't feel anymore?
The second I let someone in, and think everything is fine, that little demon Cupid shoots an arrow of memories and floods my brain with inconsistencies and what isn't right.
And maybe it can't be right.
And maybe we aren't.
And I think maybe I need to learn to feel left, instead.
But then I remind myself, I know what it's like to feel