i hate my own words so much i would rather speak through another's. I would rather speak through song. I have spent 3 nights now, slightly wined, alone in this room, awake in sleeping hours pouring it all out. Cleansing my insides. But you aren't here to see my fingers dance on the piano. Or to hear my voice - not sounding pretty, but sounding perfect. How can it not when it comes from such a place? (For you).
I am washed away.
Emptied and filled again.
So that is how it is, you see. Is it not clear? Am i so stuck oscilating between two truths equally dangerous? Just Resting on a crotchet between chords.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment