oceantoocean

Goals- the expectation of everyone who defines success as the stone etched ladder that acts as America's backbone/a reason to struggle through time's unrelenting tornado/ a way of making the climb to happiness tangible/ a cultural subconcious standard that separates the losers and winners/ an accepted discrimination.  Bottom line- goals give us purpose.  Without them we question our signifigance and let the quest for a left brain oriented "reason" run our thoughts and walk us down the plank of depression into the salty waters of eternal misery.  So many of us are dissapointed regularly by "them", and what "they" say.  You know those "people"

The world disappears in a moment Your hands fall down my back My soul returns to my body The rest just fades to black Your cringe and cry I close my eyes We say goodbye My blood goes dry I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life You take away my weariness and strife I'm gonna hold you till I awake You make me strong, you make me shake We crash into all these feelings Like a wave crashes onto the shore They say we are stupid and blinded Who cares what they say anymore You fall and die I die and fall You will my spirit I will and pull I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life You take away my weariness and strife I'll he

Blush wine conforms me It's osmosis with my blood And it hurts so good, as dreary words echo in the backround Life is so short they say But it feels long And hard And gruesome sometimes Thoughts enter I think of him Of dark eyes Of pretending to be so strange Of the end of then Of the beginning of now And how men write so differently then women I am so random I am so jaded And so grown up too Spill into me, life Catch me when I'm down Like always fill me thick Challenge him and challenge me Break us and join us I have died twice and lived a million times And now is in the air He thinks he is the only one Who speaks in

Foreign in my skin I sweat big beads that fall hard, That make me feel dirty In my skin Foreign in this room Of suffocating smoke and sexual tension Of games and intellectual dances Of early hours and numbing substances In this room Foreign is my heart To interaction To love without sarcasm To emotional orgasm Foreign is the past Of memories Of people Of you Of me