a broken bandaged promise .

cupcakes floating above my head in tall, dusty brown fields of wheat . fairies engulfed in the scent of sharpie markers dance to corinne bailey rae with me . fushia flowers appear and sing along in unison, altos . The sun presses his cheek up against my face; im scared at first, but it feels like bed sheets fresh out of the dryer .

a fairytale ?

when you tell me, "ill see you tomorrow" or "ill call you tonight" is that not a fairytale ? when you experience certain things, promises of the future do not exist. when you experience certain things, nothing is of certainty ... its a feeling of constant being lied to. the person on the other side of this fairytale has no idea that she/he is a culprit of optomistic deceit ... they should not be held accountable . its me . when you experience certain things, all you have is now . it makes you question your morale and principle . should i rob a store? i might not even make it back to my room tonight . should i miss my classes today? i may not even see sundown .

At the same time, my principles and morale create the form of my soul ... not my PERSONALITY. and with that being said, my soul is tricky that way . It feels like life is too short to lie and life is too uncertain to not live .

but at the same time, my soul expresses that life is too uncertain to fully trust promises .

a rock and a hard place .

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