miserably loving you

I can't control it, I can't change it. And that just makes it worse. I don't want to love you, or maybe I do; frankly, I have no idea. I'm confused, and maybe that's what love is. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll never know. I like this way; the way we are now. But my feelings won't let that be enough for me. Will I just keep wanting more? I don't want to, but I just can't control it! It tears me apart to feel this way..whatever this way is.. What will I do about it? Probably nothing. I don't want to scare you away with these feelings, I don't think that you're not one for feeling this way. Oh well, I like the way we are now. Nothing should have to change, right? I can't control it and I can't change it. And that just makes it worse, but I like this pain. I'll endure it and keep it close. Because it almost feels like you.

I'm related to a miracle.

He's so special. He's my favorite. He'd be there. He loves me. He saved me. He calls me something special. He'd beat all their asses. He'd be gone, but she told him no. His time has not come yet. He's alive..and that's why he's my miracle.

Lonely People.

"Where are you now?"               "I miss you."                                   "I wish I could be with you."
         "So many miles away."
                                                            "I need you now."                                                    
                                "The weather between us is cold, but baby I promise I'll keep you're heart warm."
     "I want to hold your hand, but I can't reach."                                                                      
                                        
                                                                                                                                         "I barely know you,
                                                                                                                                         but I think I might
                                                                                                                                         even love you."
"Even though I'm not there-there..."                               "I'd give you my heart, but I think you already stole it."
                                   "Hope to never bid farewell for more than a few hours."


                     "I picture you next to me so I don't feel so lonely."


                                                                                                             "Trying to remember your smile
                                                                                                             is the hardest part."
           "I'm sad that I'm not with you, but I'm happy that I'm with you."
"'Absence makes the heart go stronger'...my heart is strong enough, could I be pleased with your presence?"

You.

The thought of you overwhelms my brain
taking control of the train of thought
running it off track
into the colors,
the colors of your eyes.
Light and rich,
like the million dollar house.
It's a sand castle on the coast,
never washed away by the endless tide.
You can never leave,
I drown myself in you,
forever I stay.

The real you.

You don't know that I know. But I do. I know the real you. You are embarrassed by who I am. If only I were 100% perfect would you look at me like I wish you would. But I cannot be perfect nor do I want to. What is so wrong to you about my imperfections? I cannot help them. They are ingrained into my skull. But yours is just too thick to see from my eye sockets. And the way I look through them, that makes you wrong. I don't like to say it, but I hate you sometimes. I love you, I promise, but you make it difficult. I'm sorry if I do the same, I do not mean to. It does not come purposely. And that's what you need to understand. This is who I am, and there is no changing me.

Memories of the old.

You watch over me through the eyes of an owl. In the chair. On the wall. The clock. Tick tock. Airplanes down the stairs. Letters on the railing. What an old, unsteady home. Dance steps on the floor. Repeat, repeat. Oh no. Did you see that? Of course not. Why not? Prefect, perfect. Babies in a blanket. Don't cry, don't cry. But where did you go? Now I am alone. One after another. Gone, gone. You didn't have to leave. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. How I loved you so. But again we will meet. Looking forward to that day. Like he did. Oh, he loved you so. Flowers in the cemetery. He left your grave bright. Pretty, pretty. But then.. woosh, woosh, the wind. Bye, bye. I understand now. Together you are. Forever. Love like that will always live.

Do our pasts shape our future?

So many things have happened in my past, and, without a doubt, many important events in your life have already passed you by. No matter how dramatic, or how deserving we were of these things, do they play a role in forming our personality now here in the present? Will events that are currently happening to us make us a different us in the future? They must. The worst must make us stronger and the best must make us happier. Every single moment counted in our lives must help us to be the true us in the end.