Flash Flood
Something’s going to bust with all this pressure building. A purging, an expelling, a release, a yearning.
Just write, quit being right, just write.
You’re destined to break out. You know it’s yours. Quit your hesitation and just right your wrong cause there is no right or wrong, no mismatched judgement bullshit matters here. Not now in this lull before the storm, silhouetting the truth of what lies beneath fear is what lies beneath my love. Overriding, overruling, get my priorities not straight because the focus is leaving, flooding and washing right out of here. It’s coming from my tyrant, rogue lion, that’s still sleeping but is gonna be pissed when it realizes I’ve shut it in for so fucking long.
Just write, quit being right, and just write.
You could think yourself through a thousand more lifetimes and not have written one single line of the birthright brilliance meant for this ingress.
I feel it burning in me.
It’s been there since the beginning, yet like a coward, I treat it like a stranger, cause I fear its strength and don’t feel bold enough to bow.
Let it break what it must that lies in my path. I’ve broken and healed, the pain got me places. You know what I mean?
It’s washing, scouring, scraping me clean. It’s laughing when I’m crying and not clinging to what’s lost.
Just write, quit being right, just write.
You’re just right no matter what gets exposed or oozed out onto your page. You have a right to write. I want to hear it. I’m tired of these earplugs. Let me know it candling and brewing. It’s fermenting. I’m ready to imbibe.
You’re just right, so just write.
Let it out, let it ring.
The tapping into something real, it serves you through your written words. I love what flows when you break your dam. I need its power, and my cracking skin lived in New Mexico’s desert for far too long.
Just write, quit being right.
Trust speaks louder. It echoes through every line when you no longer worry about some illusion of doing it wrong.
Cause I don’t think I can live all tight ass surviving on no real passion and no real conviction. You know what I mean?
This is what I’ve been lingering within, a moment to live loudly without chiming in or hypnotically parading. You have such a right to just write, and expressing and allowing is what will make you feel just right. Right as rain, like the Oracle in The Matrix utters to Neo as she hands him a freshly baked de ja vioux cookie. This is my flash flood warning. Cause this soul’s gonna burst from its seams like tight jeans all worn on the knees no longer meant for me.
There’s no giving up on something relentlessly pushing its way through matter, space, maybe even time.
These words I’ve gotta write probably mean nothing and that’s the best reason yet. If they’re nothing let em out.
Let them be free.
Let em loose.
Let me be free.
I was free once.
I remember it well.
And now this well I fell into is filling and flooding so I can float right on up and out.
Just write, quit being right, just write.
You’re destined to break out. You know it’s yours. Quit your hesitation and just right your wrong cause there is no right or wrong, no mismatched judgement bullshit matters here. Not now in this lull before the storm, silhouetting the truth of what lies beneath fear is what lies beneath my love. Overriding, overruling, get my priorities not straight because the focus is leaving, flooding and washing right out of here. It’s coming from my tyrant, rogue lion, that’s still sleeping but is gonna be pissed when it realizes I’ve shut it in for so fucking long.
Just write, quit being right, and just write.
You could think yourself through a thousand more lifetimes and not have written one single line of the birthright brilliance meant for this ingress.
I feel it burning in me.
It’s been there since the beginning, yet like a coward, I treat it like a stranger, cause I fear its strength and don’t feel bold enough to bow.
Let it break what it must that lies in my path. I’ve broken and healed, the pain got me places. You know what I mean?
It’s washing, scouring, scraping me clean. It’s laughing when I’m crying and not clinging to what’s lost.
Just write, quit being right, just write.
You’re just right no matter what gets exposed or oozed out onto your page. You have a right to write. I want to hear it. I’m tired of these earplugs. Let me know it candling and brewing. It’s fermenting. I’m ready to imbibe.
You’re just right, so just write.
Let it out, let it ring.
The tapping into something real, it serves you through your written words. I love what flows when you break your dam. I need its power, and my cracking skin lived in New Mexico’s desert for far too long.
Just write, quit being right.
Trust speaks louder. It echoes through every line when you no longer worry about some illusion of doing it wrong.
Cause I don’t think I can live all tight ass surviving on no real passion and no real conviction. You know what I mean?
This is what I’ve been lingering within, a moment to live loudly without chiming in or hypnotically parading. You have such a right to just write, and expressing and allowing is what will make you feel just right. Right as rain, like the Oracle in The Matrix utters to Neo as she hands him a freshly baked de ja vioux cookie. This is my flash flood warning. Cause this soul’s gonna burst from its seams like tight jeans all worn on the knees no longer meant for me.
There’s no giving up on something relentlessly pushing its way through matter, space, maybe even time.
These words I’ve gotta write probably mean nothing and that’s the best reason yet. If they’re nothing let em out.
Let them be free.
Let em loose.
Let me be free.
I was free once.
I remember it well.
And now this well I fell into is filling and flooding so I can float right on up and out.
