Those glances you’ll never know the cause of
Those whispers you’ll never know the content of
Whips and chains
Driving us to inevitable conclusions in a me centric world
When reality
Real talk
People don’t give a fuck
Those whispers aren’t about you
Those glances are caused by movement out the corner of the eye and evolutionary biases
But we all clamor to be the center of the world even if that attention we get is negative
A justification for our actions
For our selfish acts
When all that’s needed is that moment of freedom that persists between obligations
That moment of acceptance when they smile and you feel that warm down to your toes and along your spine
But we keep persuing those unreachable goals not out of desire but from empty drive
To reach heights that others cannot and look down knowing you are triumphant
And empty
Such goals that feed only the jones’ only work for the heart blind fools and the slipshod illness of ego
But still we all want a little something we don’t have
Thinking it’s acquisition will fill some void
Feeding folded paper as if it were wood to the soft flames
Feeling empty and needing one more pill, one more drink, one more Coach bag, one more
Until nothing is enough
Not even food
Not even love
It all pales beside that addiction
Words flee the press of day
All hopes drain out
Until we break
And give up on the old
And start a new life
Inhabiting an old shell
But we are never the same
And old roads can never be tread
The future calls
And the endless possible
Free from more ambition than a beautiful breath
Calls out
Choices to be made