7月 27, 2011

I used to have my own anthem.

I used to have my own anthem. I now don't even have a burning heart. I have scattered matches around me and I can't light a single one up. I used to be anxious to grow up. I remind myself I have big dreams. I sweep my secrets under the rug like mice and I put on a dress  Cinderella would wear herself. My humour is dry like a dessert. I learned to float on my own and to this day, I swim so awkwardly.

My body has been through many wars.

I have scrapes on my knees and my hair tangles like spiderwebs. I sit in front of a broken television set and I smile for the hell of it; the noise no longer phase me. I let the small stuff roll off my shoulders. There will be people who will give you poison apples. There will be moments when you doubt yourself. Sometimes your surroundings change so quickly - you have no time to blink.

I remember I used to sing in the rain and my parents thought I was just being  a kid; I will eventually grow out of it. And I did. I now hide inside when it pours. I no longer sing off key and I carry umbrellas around as if I am protecting myself from something awful. I used to go outside without fear. Such is life.

I used to have my own anthem.