Word Vomit

Not anymore

To be in a state of mixed forces, I smiled
Ruefully. Recounting stars counted on nights
Weeks before, months before. Remembering fuzzy
Feelings, entwined with melancholic beauty. Everything
That is in us, we want to hurt.

Welcoming pain, like welcoming happiness. Yearning
Forgetfulness, yearning comfort. We don't know what it
Is we want, but we want what is most apparent to us.
It is on days like this, I swing my legs across broken
Shards, recounting and recollecting. No longer sad,
But strickened with nostalgia brimming just over the cup
Of overflowing senses.

Its no more striving for what Eisley sings for, nor
pretty words bleeding upon a blank canvas. It is digging
Deep, clawing rawness and dryness within. No more
Simplicity, no more complexities, no more locked lips.
But more life, more humbleness, more happiness.
More of who we are.

We are not authentic, we are not unique.
We are loved, and we are broken.

-Natasha Lim ©