Irony, it seems, has come around full circle, and I'm finally starting to see things in a new perspective. There are many things about myself that I would like to change, and I often find myself wishing that my behavior isn't driving down the road of life with emotion in the driver's seat. My logic lounges in the back, occasionally giving its two cents and sitting up to steer when necessary -- but that's rare sometimes.
I'll never forget the conversation I had with a good friend of mine a while back in high school. He told me that his lungs were so full of irony, and I wonder if I'll ever understand what he meant. It's been three years, and I'm still not quite sure.
I wrote a lil poem type thingy ish.
When I am with you, my heart is a skipping stone.
Soft and smooth,
A little bit flawed -- but wait! Oh yes it is
The perfect shape,
Fitting snug inside the palm of your hand,
And those flaws -- what flaws?
This stone will go places.
Those flaws, well they just don't mean a thing.
As my heart curls up inside the warmth of your palm,
I know that you will take me places.
You'll throw me and I'll be off,
Laughing and dancing above the water, the fishes, the sand,
And I won't think of the moment
Where my dance will end
And I'll creep to the bottom to
Be found again.
~~ Throw me real hard, okay? So I can soar through the air for a long, long time.
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