If a child cries out for help, you would walk away...as would I.
I hate options.
I hate the idea of maybe not wanting what I really want when I need it.
Don't read that twice.
What give someone the right to open themselves up at the wrong times?
When does it EVER become ok to believe on something?
I don't know about anything anymore.
I want to think that I am happy, and for all poetic purposes I am. But, at what cost?
Simple, simple explanation.
I fight, and I fight for something. I die for it. I still can't have it.
I finally get a second chance at life, and I would rather be dead.
Oh, metaphor...
There are a total of, maybe...2 or 3 people that even know what I am talking about. and for that I respect them.
:::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::
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I stopped breathing today,
And with my last breath I took a chance to say what I have in mind,
I told of when I was strong,
When I could move mountains and mold them,
As my words left my mouth they left my mind,
so I told of my pain and tears,
I watched as the words formed pictures before my eyes,
and the rivers that were tears dried and dust filled the air,
You were there and you held my hand,
I couldn't feel your touch but I felt your heart,
Bearing down on my body and enveloping my soul,
Standing up I looked down on my body,
and before I turned to walk away,
You kissed my cheek and I knew I was ok,
I was loved,
I was all I was, and could be,
Why,
Finally after death can I see?
I hate the idea of maybe not wanting what I really want when I need it.
Don't read that twice.
What give someone the right to open themselves up at the wrong times?
When does it EVER become ok to believe on something?
I don't know about anything anymore.
I want to think that I am happy, and for all poetic purposes I am. But, at what cost?
Simple, simple explanation.
I fight, and I fight for something. I die for it. I still can't have it.
I finally get a second chance at life, and I would rather be dead.
Oh, metaphor...
There are a total of, maybe...2 or 3 people that even know what I am talking about. and for that I respect them.
:::::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
I stopped breathing today,
And with my last breath I took a chance to say what I have in mind,
I told of when I was strong,
When I could move mountains and mold them,
As my words left my mouth they left my mind,
so I told of my pain and tears,
I watched as the words formed pictures before my eyes,
and the rivers that were tears dried and dust filled the air,
You were there and you held my hand,
I couldn't feel your touch but I felt your heart,
Bearing down on my body and enveloping my soul,
Standing up I looked down on my body,
and before I turned to walk away,
You kissed my cheek and I knew I was ok,
I was loved,
I was all I was, and could be,
Why,
Finally after death can I see?