Spending sleepless nights, wondering if the clouds will ever change. Forcing images of life, light and arcade to subside so that my mind could hide its shade underneath the footsteps I left behind trying to forgive my body and soul for where they came.
Dreams aren't really the best place for me to be, nightmares have become the best time of the year, summer in spring. I could tell that these jokes I tell myself aren't really working because the smoke from my fears keeps walking around In my beating heart lurking. Tell me now about how I wasn't really hurting, how I wasn't really surfing the memories of how my smile used to look before pain, anger and strings of torture started bursting... Tell me how I was faking the days my body was shaking, when my soul was reaching to touch faith distancing itself from me, even though I was on my knees praying.
You learn that shadows quickly become the only friends who comfort you in the midst of troubled moments. Your tears after boiling will become spring water ready to put life, light and arcade back into your spine without you changing. Maybe faith will come running back to give you another chance, and your jokes will also start joking.
Perhaps you didn't lose your smile busy hurting, you just didn't use the right lense when your story was roaring.
©heard
H