Burning Bridges

I like standing on bridges and feel the water rush beneath me.

A bit unsure about which view I prefer facing, 

the one where the water rushes towards me and makes me feel like a fighter,

or the one that flows away from me and makes me feel lighter.

The irony is, the non existence of a choice, an aphorism of my life;

It's not a dilemma, I have always swam in still waters looking up at the sky.

Nothing new to bring.

I have a bundle of emotions or rather I am one,
Spilled out across the grey floor that is my life.
I am not sure which one fits where or which one shouldn't,
Can't figure out the right words for the right time and place. 

I think I have said too much to too many,
Word vomiting one after the other on whoever passes by me.
I am screaming a complicated story made of simple words,
to be understood by someone who reads between the lines. 

I am singing the songs people want to hear,
But forgotten to sing the ones that are sung alone,
The ones played in the background only for me to hear,
The songs about the heart, the soul and a mind that is sorted out. 

I am uncomfortably self-aware and yet  everywhere,
A giggling mess of gibberish sentences thrown at every moment, 
Always starting out as seemingly interesting and intriguing,
Ending up being just another piece of misunderstood soul in the pile.