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I used to believe that the world was small, that it was mine, and everyone else was a character in a play, and when I died I'd be born, my life a foetus dream, that would just carry on. I used to believe and that was enough. That people were honest.
I thought that things were easy.

Now I believe in science, and ghosts, and sometimes my gut, but I don't believe in much.

I was afraid of death, shouting, flapping wings, creaks and the shadows on my walls. I'm afraid it'll all get broken. I'm afraid of truth and lies. I'm afraid I understand too well and too little.
Of how little I can believe in.

The dusty light in the morning, stretching over our bed. And how it all gets when I focus.

To our place that was my place, to the morning with the dusty light, under white sheet tents where it's warm. Belong in the nook, the other side of the rest of the world. I belong in the bubble.

I can't do most things.

When I learnt about the universe and my place in it, my slow evolution, and how many things there are to do. I can't do most things, and the things I do I don't do best.

Was it easy?

             Is anything?
this is what we did in writing group today. the questions were:
-what did you used to believe in?
-what do you believe now?
-what were you afraid of?
-what is beauty?
-where do you belong?
-what can't you do?
-what was a humbling experience?
-questions to your future self

safi did a similar one, if you want to see. definetly worth a look:
(hope she doesn't mind :) )
Add a Comment:
metal-kiwi Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2010
One line really jumps out: "To our place that was my place" Fantastic, it flows like, well, poetry :iconsohappyplz:
izzybizy Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2010
lol, thanks :)
schmeh Featured By Owner Dec 6, 2010
I knew yours would be awesome c:
izzybizy Featured By Owner Dec 6, 2010
thanks :)
Add a Comment:

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Submitted on
December 6, 2010
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