Looking glass
Upon the eventual passing of my emotions, I find there is something lacking in substance. I am not sure of who is looking back at me anymore when I gaze upon my reflection.
I miss who we use to be. I liked the way things had made sense then and how they just dont anymore.
Amazing is the sense of just how much tolerance you tend to have when there isnt anything left of your once strong heart and how the great feeling he brought about to it suddenly dissapears without warning and no the person on the other end of the phone wont ever know that you where looking for him when you needed what he could give you. But since you never asked for anything he continues not to know how you so needed him more than the sun, its a complicated thing, my life. And of all people I pushed away the one who showed me my heart was still alive. funny how its still alive but bleeding like the mark on his arm.
I miss who we use to be. I liked the way things had made sense then and how they just dont anymore.
Amazing is the sense of just how much tolerance you tend to have when there isnt anything left of your once strong heart and how the great feeling he brought about to it suddenly dissapears without warning and no the person on the other end of the phone wont ever know that you where looking for him when you needed what he could give you. But since you never asked for anything he continues not to know how you so needed him more than the sun, its a complicated thing, my life. And of all people I pushed away the one who showed me my heart was still alive. funny how its still alive but bleeding like the mark on his arm.