It’s not that I’m not happy. Happiness holds onto to me like the leap of joy. But sometimes the indulgence in the dichotomy reminds me I have depth, even if it’s not always understood.
There happens to be a little turbulence so I unstrap myself to see where the ride takes me. My temperature is running a little high and the rebellion can’t help but show, revealing my precarious nature that I have come to love and know.
My mother has been gone so long I’ve forgotten what she used to call me and thoughts of how things are supposed to be never fail to find me. Why can’t I just be who I feel like in any given moment. I love where the wind always takes me, the lonesome wolf of indifference.
Sometimes there’s nothing to figure out. You can be a contradiction. It’s not being your own worst dichotomy when you write your own definition.
Being on so many right paths threatens to get the best of me sometimes. It can be hard to differentiate when your always drawing within the lines.
It’s okay when you are at your best alone and your thoughts are undeniable. It doesn’t matter who is watching, when you feel like picking up a crayon and drawing.
Just be you in all your moments and own it.
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