Even in these moments of solitude I’m afraid to be myself. Why are my best qualities out of reach on the top shelf?
The love I feel so strongly is never there when needed most. It’s always facing outward, never inward towards its host.
I see beauty in all of life’s moments; it’s easy if you just try. Why is my most familiar feeling, pain behind a cry?
I’ve always taught to believe in things greater than here and now. But to move beyond inescapable hurt is just something I mustn’t know how.
There’s power in final realization, even if it’s that of true despair. Would you bother healing the muscle of an athlete who doesn’t care?
We’re conditioned to just move through every minute of every day. Passing by each other we don’t see the importance of what we won’t say.
‘I love you.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I need help.’ Are ways my tongue cannot move. If you really knew whose inside you wouldn’t need desperate pleas as proof.
You can be mad, angry, frustrated by me, but don’t pretend like you now care. When I was shaking in front of your midst none of you was there.
Not your empathy, your sympathy, not even your selfless side. All I had as a reminder of you was an empty seat on a long car ride.
I don’t know how to make this right, or even if I care to try. The worst thing about my hurt is you don’t see my perspective, or why.
My tears are dry, I’m sure my sorrow slowly with time too will fade. Why must we continue the cycle, it’s too tiring to keep up with this charade.
She loves me today but tomorrow we’ll forget again how to keep it right. Continually holding on? I’d argue it’s more brave to know when to give up the fight.
The abandonment you left me with I’m quite sure will lie low. Until the next obstacle occurs and your emotions have nowhere to grow.
You’ll get upset with me which will force me to quietly hide. I’ve taught you games to play in love, but not how to swallow your pride.
Where do we go from here? Chalk it up to love lost and lessons learned? When a fire loses its source of fuel, so too vanishes fear of getting burned.
I’m beginning to see what I’m asking of you isn’t realistic nor is it fair. The sadness that aches through the core of my bones is no longer your burden to bear.
