They hold your head unground as if they’re standing above. But you see them on the way up as they’re falling into luv. Laughing at confused confessions with disbelief. Just to see them kneeling on emotional knees catering to the side affects of dopamines. On the loose, climbing mountains to slide down the slope. Trying to reach the top you’ve concurred while they keep winding up alone. It’s funny when they feel you can’t breathe. When it’s their own pity they drown in that’s so unique. As being left for dead isn’t so bad after facts remain. The wolves have structure and play in the rain. They believe they were your peek. The most tipity top of what’s the bestest this world has to offer. But there’s always another set of hands that are much much softer. And they catch what’s falling away so it never reattaches itself to self. The real ones lend a lil help. Without the weight of betrayal standing at the edge ever so proud. For lessons learned better the makings within to be seen by rare eyes scanning life. Bcuz they too have been on the bottom side of a solid grounds going rounds with a presence of mind. Worth awakens suddenly when luv uses leverage to hurt a friend. Wanting you to believe you cannot find another like them at remains the end. It’s a delusion forged by insecurities in case of a rebound needed to keep emotions from being alone. They hope you’ll never find home. So their ego can live higher than they could ever reach. It’s best that they leave. It's easy to find a lust to crave for a while. It’s even easier to smile. Knowing that they showed you who they truly were. The mind will eventually wrap around the fast that it was just your turn. Right place, right time. Wrong choice, long lies. Just look up and realize they’re nowhere to be seen. Their halo was a facade, a prop to help you believe they were a need. But necessities never get replaced. And you damn sure cannot wipe happiness off your face…
No comments:
Post a Comment