authentic
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“Walk with me.”Intuitively, two kindred Spirits step upon uncharted terrain.Authentic sharing, naturally unveiled; deep friendship its gift.Music within each other’s heart inspired growth and Love to flourish.
Inconceivably generous. I am deliberate. ill-chosen, splintered, and imposed on. As a degenerate, I summon the Master's actions to justify my behavioral grit.
An inquisitive mind-- flourished from oppression into a cave as rich as Reed mine
Where tourists can flood my thoughts
Pick at my gold and sell it for their lives
Stabilizing their own
While weakening my historic rise
Am I invisibleWhen my arms wave for aidAm I bothering the peopleShunned and ashamedMy lungs fill with mistakesFour gallons of heart acheI fall to my endInside me
We start with theCrackling record of “Gloomy Sunday”Playing in the backgroundThe melody goes on slowlyBare feet moving carefullyto the romantic sound300 sextillion stars surround us
“We’re all just some punks, miserable creaturesWith our human goal to be: enhancing all of our featuresFurther into the caves, intentions become deeperLike killing your local preacher and to blame it on the teacher
In her eyes the world started off small and to her surpriseit was a sin to grow oldAge wasn't the purpose of her discovery, rather than the wisdom that came with no recovery
I am not a winner because I haven't fallen into the trap of sensitivityI have lost because my peers dramatize every little thingI am not a winner because I don't support implausible charities
We the peopleCreated the definition of insanityContinuously birthing another thesis to "protect" all of humanity
To whom it may concern,Yesterday I took a walk and I saw a birdHe flew in the opposite directionso I followedMy legs became weak, my head was so hollowHe led me directlyto a well
She used to trace her eyes with a path of blackI assumed it was to grab attentionShe would perfectly fill in her acne scars’ gapsMaybe it was to be the best additionBarbie dolls, and Maybelline models
I am a liar and I lie to myself everyday
Wake up every morning, telling myself that it’s just another day
But I already know what kind of day it is
I’ll be just like every yesterday that I hated
"Just be yourself."
I've heard that line a thousand times
Which self? The one that gets me admiration and respect,
or the one who swings between lows and elation,
Who am I
How am I perceived by others because when I look in the mirror I am not examining myself
but viewing the flipped version of a puppet that everyone else sees
Layer upon layer of masks.
One small, one red, one plagued with faux happiness.
A mask of royal purple.
A mask as silver as starlight.
The streets are crowded with personalities, each one unique as a gem.
I
Hair too messy, skin too pale
Greying eyes that no sleep could evade
Without the filter I see what others cannot
What I refuse to show, because I am afraid of me
Hair a mess
no make-up, no stress,
wearing jeans and a shirt
the same thing you'd probably wear to work.
I still smile and be who I am
He discovers the hardcore reality of just a snap
Black and white pixels all blemish free, flawless
He can cover up all impurities, but is he feeling trapped?
Inside a bubble full of insecurities
There is a conspiracy,
A conspiracy of originality,
Authenticity is a fairytale reality,
It no longer exists.
I want to complain of a genuine deficit,
The loss of credit and the death of “the real”.
We are advertised ideal appearances
Activate dejectment to our natural being
Exposed to others belief's and thoughts
It keeps us blind of what we are seeing
I'm lost within the sweet
Lull of silence in the dark
I fall back into thought and retreat
Escape from the world and embark
Into the journey of introspection
Diving into the deepest depths of me
