This is what the inside of my head looks like...
these pages are empty
my silence is loud.
listen to me when i got nothing to say.
my tongue is twisted and my heart has gotten so heavy.
im spilling blood with the same hands that i wrote our love with.
and this isn't me....
this isn't me.
this just isn't me.
this is just byproduct of what i have become by your side.
this is not who i want to be.
i have to let you go.
i have to go.
let me go.
we both have things to do.
it's time. and the time is no longer ours. go... for good.... good-bye.
"And the only time I got to see your soul was when it silhouetted against the sky..."
I stay up late at night counting sheep and thinking about all the times I wish I could of counted on you instead.
I must of wished upon the wrong stars because none of my wishes were granted.. Or perhaps they were the right stars but my wishes were wrong so they spared me.. But what different does it make if what I want for me is wrong or right, that doesn't make me want it any less.
I need to stop falling in love with the mysterious because it's way too complicated to fall out of it when you don't know exactly what tripped you to begin with.
I stay up late at night and try to decipher how someone so dead inside could make me feel so alive. See, the thing is you're no different... yet somehow, you made me feel different.
I stay up late at night over-thinking and analyzing how a person can lose someone who was never theirs to begin with. I've come to realize that I will never understand why some tragic endings come before and prevent a beautiful beginning.
I stay up late at night and think about the times we talked about joy and pain and how rarely human's learn from joy. You said you'd teach me many lessons, and that you'd make me cry.. but never so much so that my eye's would lose their sparkle.
I stay up late at night and when it's the darkest outside and inside I close my eyes and free write about you. I wake up every morning and run to the mirror just to make sure my eyes still glisten... and they do, but only on the nights that I write about you.
Remember the time I bought you a piano in hopes that you'd express all those things that need to be said but your mouth would never utter.. through your music, you found ways to speak the unspeakable. I used to find it so amusing how your words would never get to me but your lyrics and your melody constantly resonated some where deep inside my mind. They're all buried deep inside my head in an archive that I've lost many times but seem to recover, rather easily. At times I'm left wishing I wasn't so stubborn and would listen to you, on other occasions, that you weren't so selfish and would allow me to. Same truths, different versions. I used to submerge my head under water at the end of the day. Attempting to find peace and quiet from the daily ear-peircing chaos that my hours were filled with. As the water covered me, your memory sheltered me. When I closed my eyes and wandered off, you were my happy place. How unfortunate, how there's no where to run to when the one you're running from is your escape. Now-a-day's I find my head barely above water. I'm now trying to escape that which used to be my getaway. Today, as I submerged my head under water and the water covered me, the sound of my heartbeat comforted me.
I'll break myself into 1,000 pieces.
I'll burn 1,000 bridges.
I can piece myself back together.
I can swim across the ocean if what's on the other side appeals me.
Darling, don't you see?
Look at me.
Limit's don't mean a thing when you know your abilities.
Limit's just test our capabilities.
Limit's don't mean a thing to me.
What's a life full of cautions?
What's a life without chaos?
What's summer without the sun?
What's a rose full of thorns and no petals?
Darling, don't you see?
Look at me.
I'm not afraid to burn while playing in the sun.
I'm not afraid to prick my fingers as long as I get to smell the roses.
I've attempted to drown my sorrows by playing Mozart Quartet Radio on pandora, in the background of a hot shower, as the bath water overflows all my sorrows swim afloat.. Punctuation is key when trying to get a point across, and mine's is always off by a few dots...., or so you say... My soul is marked by a never ending series of ellipsis's ... they just go on and on.. Forever ongoing they are. And I have to stop beating my head against a wall, because so many times I've tried to think of different ways to get the same point across. There's only so many ways a person can get their point across.. but my point always floats and never fully makes it's way across the ocean of preconceived notions you've made up in your mind. Tell me, is this the grand finale for the illusion of love we've made for each other, of each other. I don't know, darling. My soul is drained because I've given you all the parts of the brain, body, and soul a woman can ever give without losing herself. I've waited for your letters but they never did arrive. Are you busy chasing tails for head and haven't had the time to send them to me? I've lost all hope... every last ounce of it. Time has jaded your memory... your absence has my present troubled so much that I can't see your presence in my tomorrow's. Purposefully or unwillingly, you've tainted your memory... and the thoughts of you no longer inspire, they just drain my soul. Visiting your forums leave me so nauseous. Oh, I can hear your voice in my cranium saying I've read into it, but if that's the only form of your presence to be felt, tell me what else is there really to it.. So i just turn my face and pretend it didn't hit a nerve but in reality it hit a couple. Some words aren't easy to digest especially when you find yourself eating at the table all alone... "I always take you as you are, every time you come and go, for the minimalist piece of you is better than none at all". Yeah, those are just words for the sake of poetry and romance, but chivalry is dead and I am not Shakespeare. Somethings need to said and we are in different rooms surrounded by elephants. Too many times it felt like you're more comfortable with the tragedy. Well, thank you for the tragedy because it was great for my art... but that's it. Tell me there's more to love .. people say life is a series of moments: What get's us through moments are the thoughts and commotion of other moments.. but all my moments have been paused for way too long and the only direction they go is backward... and never seem to move forward. So you'll discuss patience like it's a virtue, and perhaps it is, and I bet you'll say it was never one of mine..and you're right. Because i'm all out of patience. All out of patience and out of hope. And once there is no hope, there is nothing. Nothing at all... So I'm left with what I had and where I began.
