Honeybee
"Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, with open arms and open eyes."
It's hard to describe the void. The void that can take any of us at any time, it resides in all of us it's just a matter of who is unlucky enough to have it worse. A twisted spin the wheel and win a prize.
But the prize is depression.
deep.
dark.
clinical.
Doctors shake their heads at you, not believing, medleys of mind-numbing pills.
It saps everything from you
yet I hear them say
"I could never."
"No matter what it always cheers me up."
"Nothing could take my love for it away."
Maybe it's better to be numb, that way you can't feel the sadness, the world-view shattering feelings of looking at that something, that one thing you love more than anything.
And feeling absolutely nothing.
The realization taking you whole that even the thing you love most in the world can't begin to scratch the surface of the void inside.
But, every so often. Maybe months. Maybe years. A spark of your old self decides to show through. You pick up the guitar that hasn't seen the light of day in 2 years.
And you play.
You sing.
And it's the most beautiful thing anyone can hear.
It wrenches the hearts of everyone around you.
They sit around you and you try not to look. They listen so intently you feel cracks in that damnable void that holds you captive.
You let pieces of the void that's overtaken you for so long out through your music.
They try to cover their tears and the swelling they feel in their chest. Surges of joy at something you're so incredible at.
Because everyone knows,
it won't last.
It's hard to describe the void. The void that can take any of us at any time, it resides in all of us it's just a matter of who is unlucky enough to have it worse. A twisted spin the wheel and win a prize.
But the prize is depression.
deep.
dark.
clinical.
Doctors shake their heads at you, not believing, medleys of mind-numbing pills.
It saps everything from you
yet I hear them say
"I could never."
"No matter what it always cheers me up."
"Nothing could take my love for it away."
Maybe it's better to be numb, that way you can't feel the sadness, the world-view shattering feelings of looking at that something, that one thing you love more than anything.
And feeling absolutely nothing.
The realization taking you whole that even the thing you love most in the world can't begin to scratch the surface of the void inside.
But, every so often. Maybe months. Maybe years. A spark of your old self decides to show through. You pick up the guitar that hasn't seen the light of day in 2 years.
And you play.
You sing.
And it's the most beautiful thing anyone can hear.
It wrenches the hearts of everyone around you.
They sit around you and you try not to look. They listen so intently you feel cracks in that damnable void that holds you captive.
You let pieces of the void that's overtaken you for so long out through your music.
They try to cover their tears and the swelling they feel in their chest. Surges of joy at something you're so incredible at.
Because everyone knows,
it won't last.
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