What's so special about the way I survive?
It's just a mundane job... from one act to the other.
A fake smile goes a long way, a dollar even further.
A small lie wins me lovers, an empty praise, friends.
I haven’t made many promises, broken even less.
I have lied, I have pretended to love, smile, cry.
I have watered plants, watched them grow.
I have killed them with my hands.
I have lost many thoughts in the sea of words
I have stood before the sun, and drunk its orange poison
I have hidden under the stars when there was nowhere else to go.
I have jumped over the moon and reached a new dimension.
So, what’s so special about the way I survive?
1 comment:
Hey this is nice. Like the way you write. Just chanced upon your stuff. You seem to be suffering from a similar kind of angst as me :) Write more and keep it up!
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