When you're fast asleep. In dreams, you will lose your heartache, whatever you wish for will be... have faith in your dreams and someday you rainbow will come smiling though... no matter how your heart is feeling.. if you keep believing, the dreams that you wish will come true..
Cinderella sings that wistful melody and still at 39, I fervently cling to the message. I need to hack up my own hairball. There is no evil stepmother. Judy the Pom can't just up and be Bruno. That's bad. *sic*
I wish my mind and my body could agree that the world isn't big enough anymore. It's a catch 22 for me. I know all the things I need to do, all the things I have done and partially know my own potential. It's all lost to me because I have put myself through the moral ringer because its all that stands between me and mediocrity.
I'll be damned if I let my failed family ties allow me to convince myself giving in to excess is acceptable. How dare I think sacrificing my life makes it OK to contemplate actually taking it? The razor's edge of sanity and late night prayers to silent God are paltry to stark daytime tears.
I watched over 30 shooting stars the other night.. by myself.
I gave each one away.
Luck isn't something you have, it's a gift you give.
My clovers tell me so.
I will get to an understanding with myself. It sounds weird, but, I have hopes of knowing me. Everyone else is suspect and not worth it ... so it seems.
So let me go polish myself up to be my own shining knight.. in Sephora armor.
Cinderella sings that wistful melody and still at 39, I fervently cling to the message. I need to hack up my own hairball. There is no evil stepmother. Judy the Pom can't just up and be Bruno. That's bad. *sic*
I wish my mind and my body could agree that the world isn't big enough anymore. It's a catch 22 for me. I know all the things I need to do, all the things I have done and partially know my own potential. It's all lost to me because I have put myself through the moral ringer because its all that stands between me and mediocrity.
I'll be damned if I let my failed family ties allow me to convince myself giving in to excess is acceptable. How dare I think sacrificing my life makes it OK to contemplate actually taking it? The razor's edge of sanity and late night prayers to silent God are paltry to stark daytime tears.
I watched over 30 shooting stars the other night.. by myself.
I gave each one away.
Luck isn't something you have, it's a gift you give.
My clovers tell me so.
I will get to an understanding with myself. It sounds weird, but, I have hopes of knowing me. Everyone else is suspect and not worth it ... so it seems.
So let me go polish myself up to be my own shining knight.. in Sephora armor.
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