Lonely goldfish swimming in your bowl. Safe from the line of a fishing pole. Who asked you for complete control? We all want freedom or at least, parole.
It was the end of september if I remember when I told myself... you're finally at peace and released from your cell. Call it freedom from your living hell. In the end, all the moves we make are parallel.
Told myself it was meant to be. You're lonely with or without my company. I used to tell myself you're addicted to a certain kind of sadness and addiction brings some kind of balance. Found myself drowning in denial. Just like you, off on some tangents.
Lonely goldfish, you seem so carefree. What are you thinking when you look at me?
October came and nothing was the same. Told myself, its best to take the blame. A visceral reaction seemed so unfitting. A cerebral infraction of the brain. Told myself, time will be the healer. Lonely goldfish has a name.
I used to wonder about the heavens above. Found myself conflicted about love. Angels and devils seemed like a myth; something to blame when we go through things like this. Debating what it means to feel whole. I even pondered the notion of a loving God and if we really have a soul.
I found truth when
lonely goldfish was found floating in his bowl.
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