And the people who aren't lonely, even in their solitude? Well, they feel that they are more than enough and that they have so much that they are willing to give.
So they share their lives with other people.
I looked into the mirror and I saw a glimmer breaking through. Now, I'm no shining soul, but give me time to pick the rust off and I'll feel brand new.
I shake the dust from tired limbs. I pull me from my shelf. I'm filled with love, I'm flowing over, and I won't keep this to myself.
Inside a bar inside a place with a language I don't speak, I ask for a light from the man on my right who says that I've taken his seat.
He came for the music, he loves the Doors, he's waiting to light my fire.
He's the perfect vessel to pour out my temper, this love that's too hot to hold.
Now some may call me bold but the best way to change your soul is to throw it the fire and shape yourself to another mold.
This started as a blog post but it turned into a poem. Some things shape themselves; all you need to do is watch them grow.
Most times I'm uncertain, but I'm learning to be less sure. I'm trying, motherfucker. That's all you need to know.
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