I'm no more than average, and certainly no where near perfect... I'm only human. I still believe in wasting days away doing absolutely nothing but lying around. My imagination runs farther than your eye can see, my realistic thinking trails darker than my shadow. My fingers move at a constant feed for the hunger of movement and the feel of ink running from my fingertips. My hands grasp onto things that I can't help but clutch. and my lips dry when they are being starved of their natural taste of words smoking from my mouth. My ears grow wary when the rhythmic feel of your voice is drifting to a whisper, and forces me to focus on what I don't want to hear. My knuckles turn white while clenching a fist to the world of non sense and complete ridiculousness. I still believe in the stories I was told, check my bed every night for the monsters that once roamed in my head as a child, but now walk only a few feet away from me in this world. I'm a constant thinker... I'm a living debater... and unconsciously contradicting my head from my last living heart. I feed off of love, for my own world, my family, those who have turned away from love, and your hopeless romantics.
I pace past clocks that strike too late, lying between twelve o'clock and the time i remember talking before i fell asleep.. I ease eyes when I lose my focus and breath easier when I'm fed food for thought. I balance myself between times I felt too embarrassed to talk and the times I couldn't have enough time to speak what I had to say.
I'm still a child at heart but wise with my mind. I work for Santa, I have one face instead of two, I found a pot of gold at the end of every one of my rainbows, I made a deal with cupid... And I can do all of these things while living in everyone's worlds. I cry when I'm sad... twice when I've been happy, I shake when I'm bored, and Talk in circles when tired and have nothing to say except for the words that were tossed to the corners of my mind. I made a deal with myself...
and I've kept it.