The Great Insane Question

Self component anecdotes of my heart are weak but true. There are fires burning hot in 
   winter and for not one reason I find a purpose, other than 
   you. But there's a mighty mountain throwing lava from every 
   crevice that ever came and I don't give a shit about the repercussions, I'm just
   "in-fucking-sane."
 I apologise for my language I just haven't had a chance to find a second, or a 
   moment, no opportunity to advance, 
   I've been stuck in childish traumas resembling the poorness of my strength since
   adulthood swept me under with its resonating test. If I am short on love from 
   the beginning - not by hatred, but by chance - how can I fight the continuing life 
   with just a short-dealt, broken hand. 
If someone asked how much I'd eaten this week or 
   maybe, how much effort I expend to appreciate efforts 
   made by somebody that 
   didn't know what "borderline" or "sensitivity" really 
   meant, 
   they'd find there's something much
   more to me than just wanting 
   someone to care 
    less. 
 I've always been quite the pathetic case, really, I think it every day, but 
   somehow, gleaming in your eyes, 
   I feel another way. I know there's a capability to me
   somewhere within my skin, deep, but I had no idea that you would 
   find it quite so easily. 
 I know you fear the mistakes I make and how guiltily I act, but in truth I just love 
   you - please hold on to
   me, tight to me, while I fight my own barriers. 
There's a beacon lighting bright and true by the river just over the hill, it reminds me of
   the risks we took, the jonquils, the way we preached the calming waters of 
   freewill. I remember asking just one question to the man who gave me you, I stood up by the 
   cliff-face, clenched my jaw, waited for my cue. As the waters rose and fell to the 
   purposeful breeze of divinity, I asked my god one single question, though the 
   answer still remains a mystery. 
 It's not a question you would not know, it's something I say almost
   everyday, but it still appears to me that you somehow missed it all 
   along the way. The only question I ever needed answered is one very simple and
   true, 
   how on earth is it that I managed to be lucky enough 
               to find you.

- Charlotte Griffiths 

 

 

Published by Charlotte Griffiths