Better Than Fine.

i'm not feeling it.
i'm not feeling the swarthy image of bliss and happiness that i should be feeling,
right here, right now.
my father said that these were the best times of his life.
at first, i thought, "what the hell is wrong with him? you can always improve your life."
then i realized,
why the hell aren't i improving mine, now?
why aren't these my best years, like they were my fathers?
we're just different people, i guess.

i don't know if you notice anything different
it's getting dark and it's getting cold and the nights are getting long
and i don't know if you even notice at all
that i'm long gone

i set my standards high.
for everything, basically.
my grades,
my taste in men,
and even my taste in friends.
but nobody's perfect.
they aren't, and neither am i.
so why must i feel a need to perfect when perfection has never, nor will be, in grasp?

i have a habit to keep thinking of past.
or at least my subconscious does when i fall asleep at night.
and mind you, it's not bright.
maybe the memories were, but it just reminds you that the present is dimmer.
maybe it's a nice shade of red, but it doesn't give off as much light.

and the things that keep us apart, keep me alive
and the things that keep me alive,
keep me alone
this is the thing

i wish i could just be thoughtful and say what i was thinking all the time.
but i don't like name-calling, so i never do.
with the only person i want to tell this to,
name-calling doesn't even worry my mind;
but you running away might.

"i'm fine, just like i always am."
stealing that line from someone who used to know me,
and projecting it towards someone that does.
i am fine.
i am balanced and kind, if you get the reference.
but i want to be better than fine.

i don't know if you notice anything different
like the trees on the leaves or my clothes all over the floor
and i don't know if you even notice at all

 but how can you notice when you're not even here?
i think that's my biggest fear.
although i have high standards, i have no idea of yours.
i am trusting, but i'm holding back.
because i don't want to lose.
not again.

i never have a point to these.
i just feel like i'm not feeling.
and you may not know what that means,
and i wish i could tell you.
but the fear;
the fear that's in here,
stops me.
and leaves it hard to breathe.

i'm tired of the name-calling and the running.
and to me, you still haven't run.
and i'm perplexed and still trying to figure out why that is.
have you, yet?

and the things that keep us apart, keep me alive
and the things that keep me alive,
keep me alone
this is the thing

and i don't know if you even notice at all
this is the thing

with love and light,
Eve Morgan.