Chelsea Wolfe - Gold from Brandon Schilling on Vimeo.
Jan 14, 2010
Jan 13, 2010
semi precious.
72 feet.
there were so many nights i spent clutching a warm stomach, praying for a miracle.
beckoning that wayward child to come find me.
you had your reasons, your actions, your words.
i just had too many daydreams that weren't coming true.
at least you could do push ups.
i couldn't break land speed records enough to cut through the wind as fast as i need.
i'd need to lift my feet off of the ground, spread theoretical wings, take flight.
land myself somewhere new, somewhere proper.
somewhere that would have me.
somewhere miracles take place.
where it is, as it was, and was, as it will be.
but you're questioning my reasons for wanting to soar.
telling me it's not safe to leave the ground.
warning me that what i've got...
are daydreams.
not miracles.
there were so many nights i spent clutching a warm stomach, praying for a miracle.
beckoning that wayward child to come find me.
you had your reasons, your actions, your words.
i just had too many daydreams that weren't coming true.
at least you could do push ups.
i couldn't break land speed records enough to cut through the wind as fast as i need.
i'd need to lift my feet off of the ground, spread theoretical wings, take flight.
land myself somewhere new, somewhere proper.
somewhere that would have me.
somewhere miracles take place.
where it is, as it was, and was, as it will be.
but you're questioning my reasons for wanting to soar.
telling me it's not safe to leave the ground.
warning me that what i've got...
are daydreams.
not miracles.
Jan 6, 2010
Don't.
There is a ringing in my ears that I'm very familiar with. That "ding dong" song that chimes in when things don't go my way.
When I know it's either "hurt, or be hurt". I've got to be the one doing the hurting.
But this time around, I'm sitting back, laughing at myself for all the things that, on the outside are hurting me, but on the inside, I could care less about.
What if something seeps in?
What if for one second, I let my guard down, and see what other people see?
What if there really is another side to the story, and I'm not the one at fault?
There were so many lines drawn to it from the past. So many connect the dots and follow the leader paths that I'm not sure where I am or what I'm supposed to be doing there.
He acts like he doesn't know me.
He acts like there's more to me...and it's rotten.
He acts like I'm the biggest, craziest trainwreck he's ever seen.
He acts like I'm the best thing that ever happened to him...sometimes.
He acts like, there will be a day when I am not myself.
And I will fail him.I.us.we.
He acts like I'm further away than I am.
Acts like I haven't made much of an effort.
He acts like I don't write him poetry.
When I, haven't once vocalized anything that's been gnawing away at the top layer of my skin like a slow mouth.
That I KNOW who I am. And won't be made out to be a bad one.
That I KNOW I'm not crazy or rotten. I'm just different.
And I want to express my inner beauty as well as outer beauty in the safest, most beautiful way I know how. That I will not apologize for past actions of those around you, and those you've left.
I will not apologize for me.
And think it's about time you realize it.
When I know it's either "hurt, or be hurt". I've got to be the one doing the hurting.
But this time around, I'm sitting back, laughing at myself for all the things that, on the outside are hurting me, but on the inside, I could care less about.
What if something seeps in?
What if for one second, I let my guard down, and see what other people see?
What if there really is another side to the story, and I'm not the one at fault?
There were so many lines drawn to it from the past. So many connect the dots and follow the leader paths that I'm not sure where I am or what I'm supposed to be doing there.
He acts like he doesn't know me.
He acts like there's more to me...and it's rotten.
He acts like I'm the biggest, craziest trainwreck he's ever seen.
He acts like I'm the best thing that ever happened to him...sometimes.
He acts like, there will be a day when I am not myself.
And I will fail him.I.us.we.
He acts like I'm further away than I am.
Acts like I haven't made much of an effort.
He acts like I don't write him poetry.
When I, haven't once vocalized anything that's been gnawing away at the top layer of my skin like a slow mouth.
That I KNOW who I am. And won't be made out to be a bad one.
That I KNOW I'm not crazy or rotten. I'm just different.
And I want to express my inner beauty as well as outer beauty in the safest, most beautiful way I know how. That I will not apologize for past actions of those around you, and those you've left.
I will not apologize for me.
And think it's about time you realize it.
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