It's 6:30 in the morning, I haven't slept all night, and don't know if I plan to. There's something more delightful in thinking about having a few interesting nights of stories, adventures, no sleep, and friends. As apposed to going to sleep now, and starting a habit of a rediculous schedule.
These times of the morning are by far my favorite, when I have chased off all of my insecurities, screaming at them until my voice and my eyes are dry. Until I can look out the window a second longer before drowning back into my thought process. When I take a second to remember how much I appreciate my eyes. When the sun hasn't built up any steam at all, and the streets glow orange halo's that grow past the building tops. The heavy forever deep ocean sky just waits, and slowly moves in to put the street lights to bed. Patience will get you anywhere.
Then I come back to this chair, back to this head of mine, back to some words. A phone call and a book. Another layer.
My curtains are thinning out. I'm tired, but I always try to convince myself that I'm up for another day of fighting the world. Sometimes it works.
What keeps me drawn to you, is knowing that I can never share all of the things I have ever considered beautiful, all of the things that I have seen and buried in the deepest sands of my chest, all of these things that make me feel like I could burst. What keeps me right here is knowing that I can never share it with anyone, but I'm hoping you would like to stick around, and wait for me to try.
These times of the morning are by far my favorite, when I have chased off all of my insecurities, screaming at them until my voice and my eyes are dry. Until I can look out the window a second longer before drowning back into my thought process. When I take a second to remember how much I appreciate my eyes. When the sun hasn't built up any steam at all, and the streets glow orange halo's that grow past the building tops. The heavy forever deep ocean sky just waits, and slowly moves in to put the street lights to bed. Patience will get you anywhere.
Then I come back to this chair, back to this head of mine, back to some words. A phone call and a book. Another layer.
My curtains are thinning out. I'm tired, but I always try to convince myself that I'm up for another day of fighting the world. Sometimes it works.
What keeps me drawn to you, is knowing that I can never share all of the things I have ever considered beautiful, all of the things that I have seen and buried in the deepest sands of my chest, all of these things that make me feel like I could burst. What keeps me right here is knowing that I can never share it with anyone, but I'm hoping you would like to stick around, and wait for me to try.
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