You know when
You think of something you did
And the memory doesn’t even feel real?
There’s two reasons for that
Either it was something so great you can’t wrap your mind around the fact that it really happened
When it happened
you closed your mind and weren’t really ‘there’
I am a closed mind
I have a fear that I will never feel it
But I’m terrified of the thought that Maybe
I already felt it
So many girls
Get treated like pieces of meat
Wearing that crazy thight jeans just to impress
Putting on makeup just because you declare your bare face unacceptable
Feeling insecure because of a bloated belly, unshaved legs, a sweaty back or ratchet nails
Stop reducing yourself to looks.
To love means to accept all the flaws There are
So start accepting
Why is it so difficult for me
To unravel my own
Sometimes I wish to go back to the time
When my memories were only black and white
Now that they are a mix
Of all the colours that exist
I can´t see them clearly
Can´t I feel one colour for once?
I always liked making up stories.
But is it because I’m creative
Or because I think my reality is lame?
I want to have thoughts only to myself
Only for myself
I burst if I don´t share
I have a fear that now
If I fall
Nobody will be running to catch me
But what even happens
If I fall?
I’ll just wake up
With a beating heart but still fine
In dreams you do