It’s easy sometimes, to think I know the world, but get lost in the details. To think life is easy and plain but knowing it’s not and struggling to find a balance between what I think and what I know. I’m scared of the quiet pain that lingers, eventually goring through my veins and running out dry. Will the pliers come to rip me apart or will I stand strong?
I hear you talk about an old soul, at first fearful of its meaning and what it entails. I don’t want to be one, but I find myself rooted there. Unable to stager away and put on a face. What you see it what you get, there’s truth in that pretty wide-eyed face. You won’t be deceived but loved, just receive it she says. I want to laugh because it’s overwhelming knowing but not showing. Can I keep it up but there’s nothing to keep, there’s no game going on. I’m just worried life has a way of killing the heart but causing the bones to continue on living.
Struck with endless nights and unending days. Is that what the old people folk think? Do they see themselves as living, but have lived and tired of living? Do they want to leave the world and find Him and rest in His arms. But are they afraid of the change? Of maybe saying goodbye… All I know is that thoughts betray us and people worry, when truth hits the mouth and comes out running. Instead of acknowledging that sometimes, thoughts neglected are harmful enough to drive us all mad.