texts.katyism.com

I want to believe in something, more real
than this place I have put myself in 
where I can do only wrong, and I am walked on
only because I have lain myself out, 
my mind trapped in the idea that my face
is a stepping stone for everyone to get away...
I want that freedom, I want to escape.

Where is my inspiration, where is my drawn out 
goodbye, and my sappy love song... and all 
the other things that I wish I could filter 
through reality into my life... is my life reality
at all, or am I simply recreating who I am 
at every confrontation and conflict...

Who am I?
What am I?
and where do I go from here?

My heart pounding, in the throes of the violent
longing for destruction of everything but this, 
some way to form solidity from mistrust and 
accusation... I want to forgive you, but how can I?
when I cannot accept that you have done wrong...
I see it with my eyes, and hear it with my ears...
but my heart refuses to understand how something
so enrapturing, could be something so wrong.

I want to build, and then destroy, 
so that I can be left standing in the wake of this...
of everything washed away, like sunbleached fabric, 
or watersoaked canvas after a rainstorm.
I want to throw away all that I think matters, 
and start over with the things I have left, 
and find for myself what truly makes the difference, 
what truly makes life... just that...