I used to think of how it used to be and now I realize you’re used to me.
You’re so caught up in yourself, but I don’t blame you because I used to be.
I bet you’re used to being used.
It’s hard getting used to being confused.
You tend to act the way you’re used to instead of acting out of love.
I’m not used to feeling like it’s your love I’ve fallen short of.
You’re hard to hold on to, but I’m getting used to pushing through.
The truth is… I could never get used to you.
If our skin was drenched in the ink of our mind..What if the words we spoke were revealed on our skin? Would we be reluctant to speak, would we hold things in? Our appearance would express what we were thinking. Would we be bound by these words and find ourselves sinking? Our true hearts would be permanent and people would really see. We become what we say, but would we always say what we mean? There is power in words and power in sight. If people could see what you say, would you only say what is right? Look at my hands and soon you will see the truth. You’ll see my thoughts, my dreams, things I don’t always want to share with you. Would people believe what you believe? Or would these words reflect the many people you deceive? Who we are in our minds and who we choose to show may not be the same, but how would you really know? So many things we choose to keep hidden… Hide from the world. Be selective about who you let in. If you are who you are, until you say what you say, who would be around standing beside you today?
The worst thing is not knowing where these tears come from. Locked, in the back of my mind is a traveler’s trunk full of answers to questions I don’t want to know the answer to. I don’t want to know how alone I am right now. I don’t want to know that I am on my own. I don’t want to know that I’ll be alright in time. I want to know that I’m far away. So far away from the known because the unknown is much more safe.