It fly's away
try another way
I feel it stopping me
go on you say

like a flower opening to the season
I use to make a difference
breathing into someone
always finding a way to share it

How did I get here
what did I do
what did I see
who did I impact

All of this is blurry now
I have become something I prayed I would not
my prayer turned to hope
my hope turned into abandonment

what's next.
I don't know.
maybe I'll turn to the flower again for inspiration
or maybe I'll get on a plane
look out the window
and jump on a cloud
or maybe I'll just say maybe

Whatever happens
It will all happen for a reason
or will it.
Or is it all just a mumble jumble ocean of bullshit
trying to simplify what we can't figure out
only to die and become that flower that opens for the spring

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain. I've seen too many of these days for far too long. Every fucking thing reminds me of something something that meant nothing in the end I'm not that type, trust me, but there comes a point where something drastic has to happen and that drastic decision will have to be made soon before I turn into what I really never wanted to be, someone who never makes a difference.