Beliefs
"If feelings were words inked on our bodies
I think we’d help the ones we saw suffering
If we were pages of a book, and could
Place somebody with what they’ve written
We’d offer ourselves to them, in a way
Maybe a little different"
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I once believed
In the things they teach
Naive beliefs and dreams
I can no longer hold onto or reach
They tell you life’s a circle
A ring so beautiful
Personifying a certain pureness
Some of us don’t understand the purpose
Some of us think thoughts not in print, but cursive
It’s hard to comprehend, your story
When you read you’re worthless
Never being able to see
Never believing you’re worth it
Holding onto all the words that hurt you
Hearing the wrong ones
Ones I didn’t need
Ones I once believed
Looking out the wrong window
So I closed the curtains
It’s something I have to work towards
So I can see another morning
Some of us go through
If we don’t, we’ll die early
I played make believe
The things they don’t teach
Somehow make you older
I believe life’s a circle
What makes it beautiful is not knowing
Not always a pureness
You don’t always have to know
Which words come next
In your story, and I’ll believe it
Because
Some of us don’t understand the purpose
Some of us think thoughts not in print, but cursive
It’s hard to comprehend, your story
When you read you’re worthless
Never being able to see
Never believing you’re worth it
Holding onto all the words that hurt you
Hearing the wrong ones
Ones I didn’t need
Ones I once believed
Looking out the wrong window
So I closed the curtains
It’s something I have to work towards
So I can see another morning
Some of us go through
If we don’t, we’ll die early
If feelings were words inked on our bodies
I think we’d help the ones we saw suffering
If we were pages of a book, and could
Place somebody with what they’ve written
We’d offer ourselves to them, in a way
Maybe a little different
If feelings were words inked on our bodies
I think we’d help the ones we saw suffering
If we were pages of a book, and could
Place somebody with what they’ve written
We’d offer ourselves to them, in a way
Maybe a little different
© Erika Poling 2020
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