Not Always

Sometimes I write about love,
not always.
Sometimes I write about butterflies,
not always.

Sometimes a pain invades my chest,
and the thought that I once loved
makes me vomit,
not always.

Sometimes I cry through the whole night,
sometimes I laugh and love life,
not always.

Sometimes I talk to God,
sometimes I curse the whole sky,
not always.

Sometimes I believe in new beginnings,
sometimes I’m just tired dressed as hope,
not always.

Sometimes the sway of a brunette enchants me,
sometimes it’s her voice, sometimes it’s her story,
not always.

Sometimes the mirror says I’m hideous,
sometimes the mirror reflects nothing at all,
not always.

Sometimes I dream myself a genius,
sometimes I can’t even form a thought,
not always.

Sometimes life makes sense,
sometimes even crying has no reason,
not always.

Sometimes I think I’ll leave a legacy,
sometimes I fear I’m just another faded name,
not always.

Sometimes the morning kisses me softly,
sometimes it spits on me with disgust,
not always.

Sometimes I die of missing you,
sometimes I feel like running back to you,
not always.

Sometimes what dazzles me in God is faith,
sometimes it’s the silence He keeps that frightens me,
not always.

Sometimes I am all calm and tide,
sometimes just a storm unraveling,
not always.

Sometimes my sorrow leads me to the word,
sometimes life just drags on,
not always.

Sometimes I think of dying,
sometimes I think even more of dying,
not always.

Not Always#