My Mind is a Camera.

there was a time
where i used to look into my father's eyes
in a happy home
i was a king, i had a golden throne

my dreams are beginning to bug me again
because they involve people and things that are either
non existent
or used to be but now fade into the background of my life
like fog on windows,
hiding in the corners when the sun streams in.

real sleep seems to be hard to find lately.
even with the smell of delicious caffeine
and the glazed smile i get breathing in the aroma,
i still want to just fall back asleep
always in a dreamland,
not the reality that i live everyday.

those days are gone
now the memory's on the wall
i hear the songs
from places where i was born

i keep referring in every post
as if my mind was a machine, and a piece,
the cog that just doesn't seem to turn anymore,
breaks me down
or moves me too quickly
my mind whirring every second
every moment
until i eventually shut down,
the machine dead and overused.

i need to stop referring to myself as a machine.
i need to feel again.

but maybe the reason why i do is because machines have parts.
and i know for a fact that a part of me is missing,
gone and buried.
and whenever i try to finish the puzzle that is myself,
i'm always missing a piece or two.

i get frustrated when i can't finish anything.

upon the hill across a blue lake
that's where i had my first heartbreak
i still remember how it all changed
my father said,

"don't you worry, child
see heaven's got a plan for you
don't you worry, don't you worry now"

this year is ending way too fast
and as much as i want to return to the twinkle lights
the splashes in the swimming pool
and the girl who snorts,
i just keep picturing moments here.
so many fresh moments that i have kept
here in this small, claustrophobic dorm room.

i was certain that i wouldn't even look back.
at least that is how i felt a few months ago.
but my focuses are not on him now,
not on her now,
not even on me now.

the camera lens is zooming in on the billions of clippings on the wall
the super-villan impressions the boy made to make the girl stop crying,
the way his eyes peered at her happy, sleepy ones at quarter to sunrise.
loud obnoxious singing,
many dear and different laughs,
fights, frustrations, and frequent kit kat runs...
it's snapping pictures of it all.

this year has been lifetimes.
and i'm not sure if the machine
is still the same dangly earring'd girl
that you have come to know,
the same girl you came to love,
and the same girl you let go.

don't you worry, child
see heaven's got a plan for you
don't you worry, don't you worry now

see heaven's got a plan for you

i don't even remember what this piece was supposed to be about.
that always happens, i guess.

i'm just sitting here in "indie" clothing,
hair messed up and wet,
it's 5:43 and my roommate is asleep
and i just don't know how to end this.

i guess i don't really know how to end anything.
i always make it the other person's job.
so i won't have to deal
with the pain
or loss
or just the knowledge that it is over.

it's over.
and i think i'm ready
to forgive myself now.

We'll All Float On, Alright

lately i've been losing sleep
dreaming about the things that we could be
but baby, i've been playing hard
no more counting dollars
we'll be counting stars

music has always been a helping hand in all of this.
but lately, i've been asking myself:
what is "all this"?
isn't it just life?

i read an old post
and questioned all the statements about the connections i had with other peoples problems
and that mine alone was stronger than theirs.
or at least was on the same level.
but now,
three months later,
everyone's problems seem to be lessening.
at least, i believe they are happier.

i figured that the connections would stay, that when their problems would grow heavier, so would my pack.
or that when the weights turned into feathers, mine would too.
but i'm still carrying rocks on my back,
lugging behind in line
while everyone else is running ahead.
shouting the joy out of their lungs.

i see this life like a swinging vine
swing my heart across the line
and my face is flashing signs
seek it out and you shall find

oh, but i'm not that old
young, but i'm not that bold
i don't think the world is sold
i'm just doing what we're told

i'm beginning to believe that the person staring back in the mirror
doesn't match my face anymore.
and i'm growing scared.
and i've never been scared of my own face before.

i'm still trying to believe in a better outcome.
i'm still hoping to retain the beliefs i had, the morals that i created, and the difference between right and wrong that i concocted so that i wouldn't feel
like this.

i want this summer to be a place of reflection
or of remembrance.
remembrance of who i am.
i don't want to doubt.

i want to cast away the sand bags out of my hot air balloon
and just lift off into the sky.

i deserve to leave behind some of the weight.
i know it'll be okay.
i always know.

i guess that's my gift.
and a curse.

but it's all about how you use it.

lately i've been losing sleep
dreaming about the things that we could be
but baby, i've been playing hard
no more counting dollars
we'll be counting stars