Control. Confusion. Consolation.

No words, My tears won’t make any room for more,

And it don’t hurt, like anything I’ve ever felt before, this is
No broken heart,
No familiar scars,
This territory goes uncharted.

Just me, in a room sunk down in a house in a town, and I
Don’t breathe, no I never meant to let it get away from me
Now, too much to hold, everybody wants has to get their hands on gold,
And I want uncharted.
Stuck under this ceiling I made, I can’t help but feeling.

I’m going down,
Follow if you want, I won’t just hang around,
Like you’ll show me where to go,
I’m already out, of foolproof ideas, so don’t ask me how
To get started, it’s all uncharted…

Jump start my kaleidoscope heart,
Love to watch the colors fade,
They may not make sense,
But they sure as hell made me.

I won’t go as a passenger, no
Waiting for the road to be laid
Though I may be going down,
I’m taking flame over burning out

Compare, where you are to where you want to be, and you’ll get nowhere.

When I write, sometimes I tend to make unnecessary generalizations. I’m aware of it. I think it’s a way to avoid saying exactly how I feel even though it doesn’t accomplish that task at all. I’ll do my best to avoid it. That being said, here we go.

I dyed my hair black.
I dyed my hair black because it’s one of the things that I can control.
Everything around me is changing; I can’t control that.
I can’t control if you leave or stay.
I can’t control you.
I can’t control the way you feel about me.
I can’t control the way I feel about you.
I can’t control the fact that everything is different.
I can’t control whether or not I fall.
I can’t control that all of this scares me.
I can’t control that I think about you.
I can’t control that I miss you.
I can’t control that this is difficult.
I can dye my hair black.
That, I can change solely because I want to.
That, I can control.


2 thoughts on “Control. Confusion. Consolation.

  1. Pingback: Young Guadalupes | Welcome to Virgin Territory!

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