What am I
to think of on these
repeating, sleepless days
that fade into each other
likeghostsandmemories,
when I cannot begin to imagine
this thing called "future"
and these things called "feelings"
and when everything comes down
it would appear that
I am blind
and naive
but hopeful
and in this I am rendered hopeless
and I believe that I can see the air
transparent in my vision
rising,
colder,
escaping the atmosphere
and it is almost like I refuse to accept
this confluence of time
in my long past midnight babble
even though I know
that I cannot be above
the passage of the hours.
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AH! i love it! ^^ it makes me think of dr. horrible.. or maybe the fact that i just watched dr horrible with amanda makes me think of dr. horrible.
ReplyDeleteamanda says "you're miriam! miriam's blind...? It's about death."
You should always be thinking of Dr. Horrible. Well, most of the time, at least.All the time would just be awkward.
ReplyDeleteAh, that is who I am, but is that what I am?
If death is equal to insomniatic boredom, then yes, it is about death.
k ^^ I'll tell her that.
ReplyDeleteyou're really deep today. is this just cover for being extremely tired b/c you stayed up half the night?
No, just an insufferable literalist, caught up in the symantics.
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