A little lost

It feels so selfish to find myself in this world of need.
But, of course, I'm still trying.
And I think that the more I learn about myself, the less I like myself.
Because the self isn't a very nice something really, is it?
It connotes selfish to me. Ish.
So, the circles are spinning as I look for me,
Dislike greatly, look for Him,
Remember the majesty.
I've got to master balancing the two.
Or finding me through.
Hello cliche vocabulary, remember me?
I'm not going back there because I know it isn't right,
But I've got to have a strong case. Ridiculous.
And this case deeply relies on this journey of discovery.
If I go back changed from the inside with a cute glow,
An air of wonder due to my hiatus to wander,
They'll believe me?
No, they'll roll eyes and wait for me to get over it.
But they're good people really. They're just lost too.
We all like to say that and then we secretly giggle,
Because we've got it together really,
But it's nice to support the little people.
Oh humans, we're a bit of a nightmare really.
None of us perfect, all of us striving.
I typed Jesus and somehow it was autocorrected to Medusa.
What a bizarre metaphor.
What do I want?
To do good.
To make change.
To fight hard.
To love all.
But I've gotta start from scratch...

Just in case you check.

Peacefully, deeply, truly in love. 

Peacefully being the only difference from every time before this...

Is it ever wrong to love somebody?

Why?
I saw somebody say you're a true friend,
They're a true friend indeed,
But what about me?
I've loved you forever from a distance,
They've never been as sure as me,
As sure as my true friendship, true love.
They hush my lips, press fingers hard,
I'm not allowed to tell you,
And I understand a little, I do, I do.
I'm not as angry as I was just a little before
Because I'm seeking the King with all my heart,
You simultaneously can let the King and
Your Prince have your heart, I know that now.
Basically, I want to say, it's not fair, you see.
I'm all truly, madly, deeply and the world says no,
But when they choose to forgive you,
They can love you for the world, you're a true friend.
Look everybody.
But they close their eyes for me.
And that's why I asked your friend for life:
Is it ever wrong to love somebody? 

A little less cryptic?

Stop lying to yourself.
And if you're telling the truth, stop that too.
Who are you going to find? Really.
Not that you can't, you just won't.
Not the same. Not better. I just know.
I don't care. I don't care.
I'm begging you to try again.
What you love you fight for, remember?
What you love you fight for.
You are not inadequate. Never inadequate.
More than adequate. Everything.
My head is screwed on and I know now.
It's words in your head. What they want you to say.
If you don't think so, you're lying to yourself.
I don't give a crap about easy.
Real love is hard love, it's a break-neck train wreck.
Better or worse but what else can we do?
I'm tethered to you. Who are we fooling?
The failures and faults hold us together.
Reputation. Reputation.
You know what I say to reputation?
I say: Hrooba looba lobba. 

Still in love.

I screamed it at the top of my lungs
And you were in the room,
But you still cannot hear me
And I'm not sure whether it's because of the music.
So, you're not alone now,
And it's clearly my fault, despite
What you said many moons ago.
Silly, really, I thought he may be able to
Stitch or something, over the wounds,
The wounds of you. DEEP. Both senses.
Silly, really, I always knew only One
Can do that. I do know that. I promise.
But seeing that guy with his new girl,
You see, it didn't even hurt.
Because that guy was lots of things,
(And I'm sorry and I prep how I'll tell you everyday)
But one thing he never was,
He never will be, and nobody ever will be,
And 'oh gosh', that's scary, because
Nobody will ever be you.

I nearly wrote your name then, by purpose.

So inebriate yourself - and I'll clean your shoes - and put your hand on your heart and tell me...

'tis the season for your folly.

As it grows a little calmer,
A foreshadow of the moments away,
I begin to yearn,
Only now I feign it's not for you;
Question - is it habit or heart that tells me so?

As it grows a little calmer,
I tremble in apprehensive glitter,
I see it sparkle,
Only now I feign it's general,
Remember - this is never an easy time for lonely.

As it grows a little calmer,
You flicker a gaze, a low energy smile,
I feel it melting,
Only now I feign you're evil,
However, I don't think I believe myself.

An ocean of bodies holding hands,
Touching shoulders, waistlines, cheekbones,
I want an electric shock.

But in other news, I'm moving to a new apartment.
And it will be nice.
And I wonder, will you see this place?

The art of the human heart.

Flow down all my mountains,

Darlin' fill my valleys.

The mixture is eggy,

and the yoke leads me to you.

Maybe it's the scouse,

The welsh,

The little things.

The everythings and the connotations,

Inevitably you, unbearably fresh.

And then there's our tomorrow,

And 'what does he do now?' -

I didn't know. I really don't.

'What about what he promised?' -

I couldn't say. 

"There's a promise made in every bed. 

Spoken or silent, a promise is surely made"

You're probably here, 

(Either now, tomorrow, or tomorrow's tomorrow)

Because of tomorrow.

You're a liar if you say you're not.

In spirit, in mind, in fingertips.

I'm ok, if you ever wanted to know.

Not great. But ok.

To be alone with you.

Tethered heartstrings, worse or worse or better.

The welsh,

The scouse maybe,

The little things. Little me.

"Whatever promise she senses: Break it. Break it."

I've never been more sure of the dreams in my heart,

Of who I'm supposed to be.

And the world worries that we're liars,

But, you see, I've learned this of late:

We're the truth.

That's why we're a little unnerving, 

Because we move you -

Lies don't move you like the truth moves you.

I've found the second truth.

He is the first and last.

My art is the second. 

The truth of the human heart.

I'm dabbling in the art of the human heart.

It's magical.

I can't wait to move you.