My mind is an endless shambles of broken thoughts and shattered emotions. I feel and yet i don't. I understand yet think myself confused. I have found a piece of me in New York and lost a piece in London.
I am vintage. I am the soul of a flower with the mind of a bumble bee. If it doesnt make sense to you than you're not alone. I am. Or am i really constantly surrounded? Sharing my space. Devulging my thoughts. Giving away my cravings. Sacrificing my desires. All for what? A life that rarely supports me? A god i am not sure i believe in? A place that hurts? A person i cant seem to forget but has forgotten?
Over and over. Up and down. The mind flows and swirls and runs and breaks. It cries and bleeds. Strengthens and grows. What am i doing? What am i saying? Where am i going?
Why am i so bored of it all? When is it going to get exciting? Cause i'm starting to feel again but the feeling is desperate, desperate to feel.
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