Sunday, June 16, 2013

Sincere (Nervous Self-Conversation)



It took me a long time to realize what nights were really for
I always thought it was for fucking, or alcohol, or music
Or for staring at computer screens till your eyes went bloodshot
But I now know why the sun goes down
I now know why night time amplifies the softest of sounds
Nights are for hoping you don't break mirrors for staring into your reflection too hard
Nights are for listening to the moon tell you how it's not jealous that people dance for the sun
Cause it knows that when people want their loved ones to hear the songs they sing
The always sing them in the moonlight so only the people who are trying hard enough can hear
The night's for knowing that darkness doesn't cultivate fear
It sows truth for the people who are willing to harvest it
To reach into shadows and dirty your hands with the iniquities and injuries
That come from the acquisition of wisdom that can never happen during the day
When everyone's saying the first thing that comes to mind
It doesn't give the spirit room to breathe
It doesn't give the pre-frontal cortex enough time to make nervous conversation
With the heart about the impending realization and enlightenment
That love is not always the answer we want it to be
It's the answer we're willing to accept
I've taken hard slaps to the face because I thought the bruises would
be a distraction and take attention from the dirt and dust I let
Gather on my hope and my trust
There was dirt and dust on my hope and my trust from not being exercised
enough
I can't count how many times I over-thought every hello, goodbye, and how are you
My paranoia ran wild with the fantasies of ulterior motives and arguments made moot
Like unicorns run wild from being called fantasies for so long
Give anything make believe the chance to be reality and it will go on for days
About how good it feels to be self-actualized
Stretching its wings, tensing its torso, plodding its hooves through soft, damp clay
Till it can fly back into your imagination at night in the form of dreams, and nightmares, and
Hours staying up looking at computer screens till your eyes go bloodshot
Till you preoccupy yourself with fucking, or alcohol, or music to get your mind
Off the night time truth that not everything you slept on will be there in the morning
You won't always be able to hold onto your loved ones
What song do you want to sing to them?
The moon is always listening.

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