The Words of Uriah Murrieta

I am a body. I am not a soul. But I will haunt you, and the feelings are cold. Up through your spine, is the shivering tingle. Making you shake, like the earth beneath you. This ship has gone, till the water trickles in. Far beyond repair. Sinking deeper in your skin. All that remains is faint like the distance. But I’m there always, and you can hear me if you listen. Where are you now, now that you cannot hide. Return to these sheets. Were my blood still seeps.

We are entitled with no pink slip. We are free in our own minds, but slaves to each other at the same time, it’s no wonder we kill one another since our souls took shape. Sometimes I step back to take a glimpse but at the same moment I’m pushed forward with no chance to get a grip so I feel like a coward. It’s not ok to be scared in a world that is set out to haunt you. With the same ghost that lives inside us, it’s not always fair. Squares all around, living in bubbles about to burst. One pop away from escaping the worst. 

I hope she writes me. I need to fix myself, but I can’t live without her. God, this is so shitty. I read that adhd comes with side effects like this. Hopefully I can get the treatment I need soon. I love her too much.

We bear your name,
and you let us say
you are something that you’re not.
As if you were made after we saw our own faces,
and knew we were gods enough.

I think we were made too pretty.
We’re caught up in a stare we cannot break.
We know nothing changes too slowly.
Someday we might come down,
but who’s to really say?

And if we are the body,
how’d a pretty man get so ugly?
How’d He get all these spaces between each limb?
And if there is one thing bigger than my head,
that’s the distance I’ve been mislead.

‘Cause I think we were made too pretty.
We’re caught up in a stare and we can’t break.
We know nothing changes too slowly.
And someday I might come down,
oh, I don’t wanna come down.
I think we became too petty.

We don’t want a God we don’t see in ourselves don’t see we’re in need.
We don’t want a God we don’t see in ourselves don’t see we’re in need.

I think we were made too pretty.
We’re caught up in a stare and we can’t break.
I think we were made too pretty.
Yeah, so much we don’t see it yet.
We don’t see it.

I write on tumblr not so that I want fame, followers, or any recognition. I just write my thoughts and I hope it does some good for people like me. 

 I wonder if they still think of me; the way things will never be. Because I’ve been lonely, you see. I’m on my own; these broken knees. I wonder if they still dream; those nightmares that they shared. I’ve been sleepless; like they care. Probably planning their futures; in their minds, am I still there? In there minds; of that I’m scared. Probably forgotten; memories they fade. Everglades, canyons of wonder; they’ll never bring me back. It’s beautiful though. I still write them; false hope.