Today waiting for the bus I saw this person.
Carrying a bag with a plane tag and looking for a way to get home, maybe. She had the slightest smile.
I made up this story in my head: just back from somewhere with mountains and sunrises. Bag full of memories and head full of dreams. Coming home to a lover who lost his heart when she went away. Maybe she was in a rush to see him; she bumped into me. Come home to give her heart away and get one in return. Then leave on another plane to another place where maybe she'd find what she'd been looking for.
How's that for dreaming, now? It made me feel like crying.
Today nothing helped with the voices. Today all the silver linings were lining somewhere else and today all the buses were late.
Today I was this close to leaving and not coming back. Today I don't want to look on the bright side. Today I felt a right fool. Why do we do this to ourselves.
We talk about foolishness and needs and longing and we make plans. We dream about people we have yet to meet. We try to grow and be right and content and happy. Disregard our fallings down and persevere our passion. Follow our hearts and cross our souls and keep our friends close and lovers closer.
And when all of these fail to remind us there is always a chance of something more beautiful, we dream.
Today is mundane and epic and lost and lying. Tonight is for dreaming. Tomorrow I will smile and mean it. Just not right now.
Right now there is something pulling on my heart and I can't breathe for dying. How long more?
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