𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍’𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 – 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚖𝚒
In the hallway, what time was it?
i had made it perfect timing, i am a control freak
Paced back and forth, i could’ve asked if you were okay
But then, i couldn’t find a way to imagine if you were something more
than a way for me to get attention
Stand still, sit down
Either you give me vacant stares
Or tell me i’m the person you wish for
i laugh, i tell you i’m the best
if not the best, at least better than you
it’s only a joke, we are awful
Be near me, how can i make sure we’re friends after it all
i don’t like to lose control, not of you but of me
i could never take the chance
it is easy in the moment and then afterwards, i count the players
as i fall asleep
Stay awhile, so we can tell each other how good we are
You ask me what i’m thinking about, one day i’ll reply
You stop thinking i’m interesting,
i start dreaming up a better version of you
i stare at nothing and suddenly, i decide
i can never tell this version of you what i had to tell you
Did i make you a worse person? Probably
Make me laugh, do you think i’m funny?
talk to me, it never mattered when
dance to bad music that we just learned the words to
Even in the quiet moments, we are never enough
But i think you’re pretty good
𝚍𝚎𝚠 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜. – 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚀𝚘𝚋𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚢
The hardest lesson I’ve ever had to learn didn’t come from notes I scribbled across lined pages of a notebook I bought for 99 cents from Walmart, dictated solemnly by an underpaid teacher. School always came naturally to me. Pay attention in class, read closely, do your homework. No matter the school or even the country it was the same, an endless cycle of learning and regurgitation that seemed impossible to escape.
And the days of my youth trapped inside walls of a classroom went by slowly and unbearably. Somewhere between the hours of indoctrination or learning about mitochondria I even had enough time to sneak glances at boys and conceive make-believe notions of romance I learned from books I’d read, leading to a series of romantic escapades that of course gained me nothing.
But school never teaches you how to console yourself when you’re sobbing uncontrollably over your favorite childhood movie soundtrack. Or how to like happy songs instead of listening to the songs your seventh-grade math teacher would call something like “songs you’d slit your wrist to.” Or how to go to the gym not because you want to look like girls on Instagram but because you genuinely want to lead a healthier lifestyle. Or how to look at the words you write without wanting to bash your head against the wall.
Everyone tells you to love yourself!!!!!!!, as if it’s that easy. All the people in movies go through a period of self -loathing and somehow change something about themselves and then meet someone beautiful and then they’re happy and they love themselves. Well I could start a small village of all the people I’ve ever been, and a larger one of all the beautiful people I’ve seen, and I can tell you that all of this has only left me wandering even more through this life with only a compass that I don’t know how to use because why would I when we have GPS.
I ate an orange today, or a tangerine, or a clementine, and even though I’m a cashier at a grocery store I probably won’t ever be able to tell the difference, and I’ll charge you for a tangerine even when it was just an orange after all and you’ll yell at me and I’ll agree with you because I really ought to know these things.
𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚎 – 𝙺𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝙻𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚣
DM @thats.ki on instagram for cool patches! she’ll design what you ask! prices vary.