Just another debate
Just another book
Just another half an hour of agony every day
Pain is just a feeling
Just a thought
I loved to learn when I was young
Yet I was not a student of duty
The trees and the sun do not demand to live rent free in my head
I do not want to love knowledge as it’s slave
How is that love?
And yet I have started to argue that I really must, in some small part of me, want that kind of love
What is it to want? I must know, just one more question, one more book, one more day of crying my eyes out begging the universe and my mind to let me stop
I don’t want this, I know in my heart, but oh you delusional young girl, that isn’t knowing
But do you really want to let go? Do you really want to? Do you really want to?
Shouldn’t my pain be enough to answer that question?