Thursday, October 25, 2012

Maybe you mistake me for someone else

In the end there's nothing left to say
that I haven't already said
and the truth is that no body cares
least of all me
about the colour of my eyes
or why I am sad.

Nobody cares, least of all me,
How I don't believe I can have what I want;
and maybe I don't even deserve it.

Why does it matter why?
I grow impatient with my own questions
and tears of self indulgent pity
Because I am tired,
and I would rather speak with the beat of my heart
than whisper with my fingers
tracing my minds circles through space.


  1. Truth is, it doesn't matter if you deserve it or not. The universe is not interested in judging you. It is perhaps interested in what you do, who you are, and maybe even why.
    As a distant observer, it's easier to see that everything matters. That ceaseless questioning will always produce answers, even if they aren't the ones searched for. That it's ok to be tired, to retreat. Because the universe spins in it's own circles, relentlessly speaking with the beat of it's heart. It understands, even when we don't.

    (This poem really got to me. I wanted to write something else, but this is what came out. I hope it means something, for you.)

    1. thank you, it means more to me than I can say.

  2. thanks for the stingler comment, that was a great one. really enjoyed it :)