I looked at the lines and skin of someone's face,
(Just an almost random person)
It made me realize
How dark and distorted my reality can be.
She wore glasses, and in my mind,
The disguise of someone from the past;
The past which I never really lived,
And neither did she.
Her hair flirted with my nostalgia,
Her eyes made me sink in despair,
Because we don't know each other,
We've never met.
I felt this way because I watched an old movie,
I fell in love with the characters,
The scenes and the psychotic killer.
Until I began to write that behavior,
In the form of blankness,
(Perhaps darkness, you never know)
I could find real joy in black and white pictures,
I really did. I became one with their music and nature,
Until I woke up to read everything
That I had written inside my mind.
The brightest feelings
Are never completely bright.