To the summer breeze that made me sigh, and the music that made me smile,
I never hear good things in my head.
When I do
I'm hidden behind
a layer of
concealer.
It's always someone else
that inspires me
leaves me in awe.
I often wonder why I can't be happy with
what I've done myself
because I always unpick the stitches
and take apart the pen
then it breaks.
It all breaks.
I feel like giving up and...
I don't know.
I used to think I knew it all, but now I'm left here
alone, with my broken glass butterflies.
Not lonely, though. Just
misunderstood.
Goodbye to the view that I love - the view that the greatest camera
ever created couldn't paint
in all its
beautifullness
...and that's a word now. ^_^
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