Factory

Writing

The joys of life, the simple breathing in of fresh air or falling in love with the tint of a summer sky that seems endless they are amazing. If the world began to crash down, and all that was left were you and I, I wouldn’t waste a second telling you that I love you, or that you mean more to me than you could possibly imagine.

These are just dreams sadly, my dreams working against me as I imagine what could be and what I believe should be. They repeat and become larger and larger clogging a machine that manufactures those visions of love and passion are spurting through the gears and clogging them with forged memories that should be created yet aren’t. I tell you what you mean to me, you tell me you’re not worth it, I tell you that I care, and you say you care too. It’s all such a strain upon the machine it slowly halts the manufacturing of these false dreams. I grow apart from you, you grow apart without effort. I struggle along and try to wash the machine that I’ve forced to create so many visions and false realities that didn’t need to exist. The machine slowly breaks apart and stops the manufacturing of it all. I am left thinking, “what happens now?” I shut down the factory and let it gather dust, the parts slowly become barren and I abandon the hopes and dreams of everything that could have been, we. The door to the factory left open with hopes that maybe someone would come along and repair all of the old parts that are slowly breaking down.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s