vain Options

[wishforhelsinki]

We all had somewhere to go. But without our places defined, we have nothing. Empty handed and pitied. This is what we are seen as to those who can't understand the satisfaction in mediocrity. And within ourselves we truly believe it does not bother us, when in life it is everything because it is all to make anything of us. When I looked into your eyes, I knew you could make me something. But you told me you were too proud, too high, too far ahead of me to ever come down and start new again with nothing. You knew you'd only hurt me. You knew with every vain in your heart. And you predicted the outcome of this. Wordless, nothing to speak out loud for you to hear. But you expected it, the more than everything spilling through my air tight pressed lips, telling you how you couldn't possibly be as proud, as high, as far ahead as you say you are--and you know you lie. Still, with your hardest tries you've dented me. I don't go a day without reminding myself of the cause of such poor frame with each look in the mirror. I wouldn't let anyone else hurt me as much. In such efforts do to so, though, I've only weakened my soul. I can't find my heart. The heart that held me up like a cross, though not as appealing still meaningful and whole. Even with a battered arm, that heart kept me going. And I can't find it. I think the whole time you knew, too, what I've tried to avoid by burying beneath chaos, the monstrosity. The seed of apprize, for you, reeking its sins as it began to grow. You are my treasure. Though I may never be yours and we may always pass in silence. Although you've powered me down to admit to my worth and yours and the significance in all differences. I aspire you.