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letra de waves - isaac barrow

it didn’t take gl-sses for my real eyes to realize that gl-ss is not the only way to see a reflection. it didn’t take hearing a history lesson to hear his story and have knowledge lessened following a lesson. stories are told and following i get many stares, but upon glancing over the stares, steps turn into stairs and stairs turn into glares

dreams turn into darkness and movies turn into dark knights and nights turn into nightmares, nightmares turn into fears and dares and stood up neck hairs. just to tell a story of the overplayed not-quite divorce, the big demon dripping in my voice is fresh but the tone comes out quite ho-rs-. it’s not official but the papers say all that needs to be told, read all about it next time you p-ss by maybe even pay your 75 cents to read about the train way and its crashing of course

it seems when divorce the happens, the child in you happens to die by force. how am i supposed to take on messages and move on when there’s tension enough to fill ten shins amongst the ones p-ssing the torch. when we grow up in broken homes, we become richards, d-cks, douches, cripples to the ability of feeling nothing. empty, guilt-free and careless and free of pressures but full of food for thought that from the sh-tty taste in my mouth i’m clearly munchin’

sometimes i feel like the only thing i share is a last name, take that away and we’re all just strangers making strange errs. making mistakes and royally borrowing things like the may king mis-takes. when i think about all that defines my name, i notice it has nothing to do with the letters in it but more so what’s between the lines. what’s between the lines lies lies and lies the sheets to periodically fill up a pad without any blood or pain-caused cries. knives drag along a wrist but don’t risk running the risk of just being another isolated broken home casualty. casually kick my feet up to think about the things that are real to me and are just disguised as reality actually

picture a painting when you don’t have a smock to wipe your paint in
imagine fainting when you don’t have arms to faint in. i’m reading corny social feed cheer-me-up short stories with tall statures and bashful pictures and distinct message-friendly textures. i’m wondering where this family described in the perfect american description manifests itself in my life or is it just something that comes in waves like beach sh0r-s

surely, waves currently represent my state of mind and the things that i state from my mind. the things that i cap while i recap it all, the things that have me question others minds before i question mine. questions make me question my mind and whether or not presence of mind is a present if past days have a way of dwelling into the present. presented with the possibility of possibly moving on but turn it down for peace of mind, most call it a curse but i call it a blessing

f-ck it this day-to-day mentality is not fit for day-to-day living
but this state of mind makes death seem like an awfully fun time to live in. living or leaving isn’t defined by definite lines but eery diction reminds me of a time i wanted to rewind. we’re moving fast but are we moving forward? hard to tell and opening this dictionary gives me no meanings, just more words

- isaac barrow

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