I knew what I was doing – when I kissed her
I knew it would destroy her
But if you saw the kind of lips she had
You’d have probably done the same.
you see, I was blamed for stealing her breaths,
Yet you completely failed to see – she annihilated my soul first
And I am rendered the bad guy?
Oh dear God catch me before I fall,
Please, don’t.. Don’t let me risk it all..
I am a dreamer, a fearless thrill-seaker
And oh God I love how his eyes make me feel
Throw me a sign, whisper in my ear
All I ask is that you make it clear
Because I swear if you don’t,
I can’t be held responsible – Oh no, not me
Not for the destruction that will be made
The passed few days have been excruciating, I feel like a well gone dry..
Not of water or the elixir of life,
But empty of words; MY words..
And I am spent
I feel like that is all that I do – wait..
Waiting for an opportunity,
Waiting for a sign,
Waiting.. Just waiting..
And the hurtful part; is as I wait – (Wasting my life away) I watch myself die a little more every year
Because time is a two-faced monster
You can live a moment throughout an entire lifetime
Or spend an eternity in a single moment;
But in the end – it’s all the same
One moment left waiting.. Waiting.. Waiting
Does he recognize the pain that seeps through her words?
Nights passed drowning in tears,
Days trying to hide the redness of her eyes.
Does he feel the anger that flows through her words?
Days replaying the arguments over and over and over again,
Nights spent tossing and turning, restlessness driving her mad.
Does he feel the loneliness that bleeds through her words?
Night exhausted yearning for his embrace,
Days wasted chasing his shadows, continuously falling short.
Does He? Does He?
Oh baby.. Does He?
I write because my demons eat me alive
I write because it’s the only way
I know how to survive
I write; otherwise the words seep through my bloody veins
I feel like I am being drowned from the inside out
I write because it’s my only salvation through all my self-doubts
I write because within me lives a hell so gruesome – I find myself sometimes wishing I were dead
And even then, I’d still find myself
Looking for a pen..
I would watch him, the way he handled her
And wonder, why he never touched me so
His laughter almost seemed heartier
His smiles ran deeper
His touch so tender
..*Sigh*..I guess what’s how it goes; and honestly?
Do I have the right to be jealous?
He was after all; the Father of a new baby girl
You were like a black whole
Sucking in everything but my soul
I was only too glad
When you stopped paying me any mind
But I was mistaken
And realized it with time
I missed the little pieces,
Those left inside of you
Had I done the same;
You’d have felt it too
There is a battlefield that rages on inside of me,
Between the good
The bad and the bittersweet.
My Soul roams this world constantly restless
His presence leaves me ever so breathless
And I find myself walking on treacherous grounds.
The sky is not my limit,
My grave is not ground zero
I am not who you seem to think,
More of you than you – And less of you than me.
What does it take to slowly fade away, to drift away into the everlasting abyss
Is it a resignation of self-worth?
Look for me behind the shadows in the darkness, & I shall let you know..
I hurt for a love I desperately want but cannot find
I’m not talking bout the perfect kind
I’m not even talking bout a past life
I speak of blissful moments
Moments that have you breathing under the surface of the ocean; whilst basking in the warmth of the sun
I need to feel alive again
I guess the problem is the only time I feel alive
Is when I’m breaking apart
Because that’s where true emotions lie..
In the extremities of pain – in the form of the shattering of one’s soul
I find that is where beauty lies
And I wonder does that make me a nauseating crearure?
Does it make me a repulsively loathsome human being?
Or does that simply mean I am someone that believes that in order to understand love – You must first break
In order to appreciate beauty – You must first behold ugly
In order to value life – you must experience death
You must die. . And haven’t I died over and over again?
So the question remains: Do I set myself up to die so that I feel alive?