honey,

I have nowhere else to go to,

I have nobody else to run to,

when I think about it

I’m only sure

I have myself to run away from.

I am in constant rebound

from/with myself

and yet,

I keep telling myself

and also preaching to you

that 

"it will be alright baby,

everything will work out

like you deserve”

I wake up everyday

willing to get back on track.

on that track 

I keep idealizing 

in wish 

that reality will cooperate with me

and yet,

my mind drifts apart

certain that I’m reaching out

to open a door

that will only have an empty room waiting for me,

there won’t be jack shit on the other side of it,

just like every last door.

it doesn’t mean giving up,

not now,

not ever,

and yet,

it's so fucking tiring 

making my way to find,

open and go through 

each and every door

only to find

all this nothingness to persist.

inside in, inside out.

and I hear myself, again:

"it will be alright baby,

everything will work out

like you deserve”

and in that second, 

I know where the lie lies:

it will be alright,

it will work out,

not necessarily for the best, (nor for what you think is best)

but just because 

time owns us,

and nothing can be still for long,

moments pass, at their proper tempo,

things change,

without your consent,

even less of your control.

don’t ever forget that,

"it will be alright baby,

everything will work out

like you deserve”

‘cause the wheel is still spinning,

you have so little to loose,

but also,

forget about winning.