Less

I usually compare myself to blue rivers, rocky mountain ranges, or a free black winged bird…

But not now.

I feel less connected and more careless.

Remembering the times when I cared too much and loved a lot…

Now, I am not.

I have stopped.

My intuition has become more of a distant, grey fog and the less I Iisten, the less I care.

The more I do this, the feeling of lonesomeness, only becomes an acquaintance and not a friend.

To distract myself and think thoughts that aren’t mine, I have become a stranger in my own eyes.

Even though I have dreamed of the most beautiful things…

And even though I have come to know darkness as it passes by…

I still cannot seem to shake the shadows that tend to take my hand.

And maybe I should be like an ocean and burry my sins so deep that I’ll never reach them again…

Or maybe I should be honest with myself and accept my love for you…

But with this, less is more…

And the more perfect you become, the less my eyes wonder from yours.