I miss my innocence,
My now absent bliss.
I sit and I reminisce
on when I thought of love as limitless.
Now my heart screams at me,
Because it’s not being fed…
I’ve become a cynic.
This I express with hopes to not be misinterpreted.
The true meaning behind my words, not misread.
Because the truth is I still love, love.
I’m one part “just fuck it”,
And another part, “Can’t get enough”.
But lately I’ve been living more in the former.
It makes me feel, weighed down and heavy…
I don’t feel normal.
Being immersed in love is where I feel safest.
It’s where I find inspiration,
Where I’m at my best.
But how do you feel safe in a fortress,
When the walls become weak and transparent?
I don’t know the answer to that question.
But really, how can you?…
I’ve almost completely lost my faith in it,
Something I wish wasn’t true.
But it is.
So now I’m on an empty voyage.
Sailing towards treasure,
That’s nowhere close in value.
To the wealth that I’ve felt,
Riches that are just indescribable.
Riches that no riches I accumulate can get me…
So I hope for my sake that I can rediscover it.
A Hopeful Cynic