...as a thorned rose

[an old piece, but just bringin it back]

i feel like...

i am fighting a war with reality
against perfection
against fairytales
a war between fantasy versus everything i can touch

below the bullets flying above my head
above the grass i'm standing on
within the clothes i'm wrapped in
and beyond the touch of every fingertip
all that is tangible
and everything within my vision
i stand as the only proof of the reality i need to live
and the life i have to face
the world turns only within my mind
causin this only creation
to be the one thing that makes me more confused than confusion itself

the thorned roses are all i have to offer those i love
beyond this thorn bush that you have found me lying in
i can do nothing but wait and blossom
in hopes of beauty within me to bloom…
as i leave remnants of myself behind in carelessness
all i am i leave in fallen petals
and i can't hold on any longer
it is beyond my control...
i fall helplessly

my tears are all that slip away from me
that of my pain
hurt
worry
and fear
fear of living a life not worth living
but unable to see beyond all that i do live
careless again...
careless again...

and the path i leave is rather a path of restlessness
mistakes leaving footprints
and causing me to follow further into the path
that continues onto regret
full of the hardest steps
but i tread it either way

so follow the path of the fallen rose petals
to see what destruction i have caused
follow the storms that i have caused
to find me here fighting a useless battle
against perfection and reality
my needs versus my wants
and once again comin to the same conclusion as i had before
that i want what i need
but it is of course
everything i can't have.

so here i am left chasing the feather in the wind
amidst the already turbulent winds blowing it further from my grasp
each time i grab for it
my efforts cause it to fly further away
i have found myself jealous
jealous of its ease in flying
relying on nothing more than the wind to carry it
nearly weightless
the beauty in its carelessness
i want that.

i want that each time i were careless
i could carry myself even higher than before
rather than leaving a path of fallen rose petals
a storm each time i cry
a path of quicksand footprints to fall in
and yet again
thorns in the fingertips of all those who come close enough to me
to ever care for me...

i feel like...