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Soul Mates Are Not Always Lovers.

Updated: Mar 17, 2019



Picture taken somewhere, Nevada. Written in Nashville, Tennessee.



Soul Mates Are Not Always Lovers


Born into fast pace

Raised on extravagant haste

And coming of age with extraordinary as the norm.

We’ve been fucked since we were born.

But please, may I sit here

And I will close my eyes and listen

To the stories you tell of these lives we have lived,

When we were actually really living.

I am stuck you are stuck we are stuck

In these cities, the facade of their bright lights draws such a crowd.

But I’d close my eyes to it all just to close my eyes in exhaustion

At a truck stop parking lot, comfortable with the constant discomfort,

Just because you’re there.

I would call the rest of them fools, but it’s the real fools that we enjoy.

Made up with wigs and powder, making a mockery of us all.

Reality. They mock this thing we call reality.

That consists only of bodies marching on with eyes closed. Complacency as their mark of joy.

Keep telling me of those lives we lived.

We will shut our eyes together, with one thousand miles between us.

And imagine the day we run away from it all, laughing.

We do it so often, yet we always come back. It is conditioned. We have learned to call this real.

But one day, our big break will come.

Not the break of my visions being discovered and not the break of fame that you pursue,

But our break from this so-called reality, that was never real in the first place.

This thing they call real, and this thing that we never have been fit for.

They will smirk and we will laugh.

And we will cry. So often, as we always do.

Because this world, we have seen it.

Seen it so much and so vast, in a way that the rest of them will never have the courage to try to understand.

One day, we will be queens.

This same life that we wish to end, we will own with our own four hands.

And laugh at the rest of them all in their ignorance.

Genius is not the companies you grow, or the businesses you build.

But the lives that you sit, and feel, and struggle through,

As you grasp your existence by its throat, and demand everything it has.

We are just grasping for air now,

As we are drowning in these lives, that were never truly ours.

But one day soon, we will run

And we will drive

And we will breathe the air of our true selves, for good.

And one day, this will all be behind us.


#blo #WixBlog #travel #poetry #travelwriting #travelpoetry #travelblog #roadtrip #bestfriends #soulmate

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