I inhaled you like my favorite greenery and exhaled my greatest disappointment.
I didn’t get high off your flavor like I thought I would
it tasted different this time around.
I can tell someone else’s lips were replacing mine,
that the smoke no longer lingered like the shape of me,
it was more like an unwanted dust cloud suffocating the space between
I no longer wish to please others at the expense of my emotional well-being. I have mastered the art of giving for so long that I forgot how it feels to receive. I feel like a magician, concealing my real identity only to entertain those around me. It’s a lonely world sometimes when you constantly give and look around for anyone that will give back.
I long for a prescription that will cure me of this,
My need for constant giving,
Stroking anyone that wants to be stroked,
Giving to everyone without having anything to give,
I want to know what it’s like to feel free, to get rid of this illness
To love and have someone love back
To enjoy life without discounts
half ass moments with half ass people
waiting for handouts
While I’m patiently waiting for someone to serve me!
I’m a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad.
I’m lazy, yet ambitious.
I say I don’t care, but I really do.
I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way.
I’m a conflicted contradiction, if I can’t figure myself out there’s no way anyone else has.