silver lining

Golden Hour.

I feel like I have lived a thousand lives. Ones more tragic than the next. Then the sun hits every inch of my skin and I feel born again.

Different.
Brand new.

It’s the shadows from the golden rays that peek through the blinds. Straight from the outside, for I am always inside. It’s neither cold nor warm, just this glittery feeling of gold etched in your face and every parts of your skin. It’s what photographers try to photograph and emulate. With artificial lights and colors. Holding still until the light is just right.

It’s through the shining of this magic hour I think of everything. Every sun drenched memory. Every crazy golden moment. My breathing gets slower and my eyes start to well with tears. Each tear sparkling with the effervescent sun.

If I loved you last, I would love you best, I kept telling myself. I say this to the shadows that wave with each motion of the words. I don’t know what love is anymore. We are all rose gold and amber in this light. We are all love in this glittery way of speaking. We are all warmth in this sunset of light that we see before us. Yet, I don’t even know who the “you” is anymore. At this moment is could be anyone. I could have loved you more. I could have believed every single word you said. Instead, I find myself talking to shadows to keep away all these ghosts.

We were once all silver and now we’re gold. In this golden hour, one of the loneliest moments. As the gold sprinkles across its flecks on ever inch of the white room. When you’ve let everything go, it’s when you start all over again.

If I loved you last, I would love you best.
The sun sets and the darkness overcomes us.

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The dopeness.

You love to see everything in your perspective. You’re right, I am wrong, that’s how its suppose to be. The venomous words that poison through thought and well wishes. Poison infecting veins and reaching your blood stream, straight though your heart. Negative thoughts are better than positive ideas. All the light will never over power all of your dark. I sit, I watch, I listen, and it’s the words that you hide behind. False illusions, vicious dreams, that allow you to believe you were right and I was always wrong.

I am always wrong. Wrong in my mind, my illusions, and this imitation of life in ruins. I can’t help but want the silver lining. I can’t help but be a negative person with positive intentions. Who are you to judge an idea that isn’t as great as your own? Who are you to believe that being better than everyone else, makes you a better person? Once you start, you can’t be stopped, and you become a monster of your former self. Growing up has a funny way of turning you into someone you never wanted to be. Most of us change and a majority of us, stay the same. I can’t help but want to be better for myself, if I can’t be better for anyone else.

Am I not destined for greatness, instead of failing? Am I not here to be a better person, through all the bad things I have done? But you are always right, and I am always wrong. It’s how it’s suppose to be. At the end of the day, I can’t help but see the dopeness in everything, but you just see the wackness.

9/30/2015