High Rise

I'm running out of time, just tell me how to make this right
If my mind would simply stop listening to my emotions.
because I'm sick of planning ways to make you mine
If my emotions would simply listen to my heart.
recounting all the lines I'd give to your expectant eyes
If my heart would start collaborating with my head.
but I failed to see the signs
If things could simply click into place.
It's not the first time that my thoughts would get the best of me
If life would simply tell me what to expect, what to do.
so I'll keep to myself, and just keep on thinking wishfully
Then maybe I could be perfectly fine.


You know, it's probably a good thing I keep things to myself.
Otherwise I would be one of those crazy messy girls sitting in puddles on the floor. But sometimes I don't know what to do and I don't know who to talk to and I suddenly feel overwhelmed and completely happy and frazzled all at the same time. I don't get it.
What's wrong with me?
What's wrong with this?
I keep thinking of the lists upon lists of things that need to be fixed within myself. But who says those things need to be fixed? No one, they don't say a word but they don't react very positively so what else am I supposed to think? So I say I'm sorry and I shut my mouth and tell the world I will never speak a word of it again.
But that's not fair.
And you think so too.
Until I start talking and then you disagree with me and it's just a mess. A mess I tell you! But what does it matter? It doesn't! Even when you say it does. It really doesn't. So naturally, I am so afraid to talk about anything. So afraid at the mere mention of any flaw it'll break. But that's incorrect thinking. Don't you think that by exposing the weak points you can only make them stronger?
Then again, what are the weak points?
Do I even know?
Probably not. I'm just feeling something and that isn't even worth a dime or a quarter. And I am so done typing this. Do I feel better? Eh, not really but oh well. Bed time.