flushandforget

[flushandforget]

i was wrong, i dont wanna drown

[flushandforget]

i knew but i didn’t understand

you were different, you’d said you’d warned me you would push me away one day  and when you were ready to come back i’d be long gone, tired of spending countless days on this park bench, cold and alone and longing for a cup of coffee in someone else’s embrace

it’s only been 3 days, and i already feel like i’m losing myself  i try to catch glimpses of you when the sun streams through my window, i try to hold your hand as i desperately grab at the rain  i got used to you, i got used to who i am around you you bring out the best in me, yet the distance screams i brought out the worst in you  but i know the void only echoes my deepest fears i know the space you put between us wasn’t to shut me out, but to find yourself  and i’ll watch from afar till you walk yourself back to me  i long only for the warmth i find in your smile, the safety of your arms and the comfort of your words  i heard you then, but i understand you now and i’d spend years on this park bench, cold and alone if i can look into your eyes again 

[flushandforget]

The truth is I want too much.

I expect too much from the one life I’m given and I’m foolish to believe I can do it all. Walking on water is a curse when I can’t stop running from one island of desire to another.  Maybe if I swam I’d miss the warmth of solid ground, but how do I appreciate the feeling of the sand under my feet when I’m a dry stanchion every time I land? I was drowning once. Flailing, panting, screaming. The memory seems more exhausting than the experience.  The only time I’ve truly felt free is when I stopped fighting to stay afloat. There’s nothing as comforting as draining every thought every emotion every ambition every wish until the sole purpose of your mind and body is to trust the water, let it swallow you and lull you into the spirit you deserve to be.  If you’re lucky, the end will wrap its arms around you and take you home.

Some of us aren’t granted that privilege, we’re infected with a dark, hungry void of hope that refuses to be filled.  It was hope that stole me from the water and it was hope that put me on my feet. It was hope that taught me to run and it’s hope that keeps me from freeing myself.  It was hope that saved me, and it’s hope that will kill me. Nothing fills the void, nothing is big enough to satisfy my ambition. If want a bigger, better, brighter life then I won’t stop till I find an island that calls for me as much as I long for it.  So I’ll keep running.