Initial.

Initial.


Originally my ulterior motive was to imagine you out of existence.
It was to disregard this entire thing, to plain and simply forget about everything.

I’ve never spoken this out loud but,
I've always had this overwhelming feeling of animosity that tore at me.
Hour after hour, day after day, month over month.

It consumes my thoughts, my actions, my every day life.
I’ve tried to conceal it, I’ve tried to deny it, yet nothing resulted except more distress inflicted upon myself.

Nothing seemed to work, nothing seems to be working.

Initially I never had a motive for anything.
Until I met you…

Frightened.

Frightened.


This never ending phone call echos throughout my ears.
Messages that have an undefined sense of sorrow,
pain, hostility, unrequited love, and possession.
Never want to abandon by mind.

The time has struck.
And I don't want this moment to come into existance.

Help me release my self-hatred for loving him.
Help me engulf myself in sincerity.
Don't let me live my life in fear.
Don't let me be driven by insanity.

The time has proceeded.
And I beg for it never to happen ever...

I have a confession.
I've never been frightened of anybody except him...

Trapped.

Trapped.


Did you ever feel like a wild bird,
that was trapped and kept in in cage?

A bird that wanted to escape from it's confinement,
but was never able to leave or fly far away because of it's owner.
And when the cage was finally open and it tried to fly free,
it didn't fly instead it was falling.
Failing to that hard cold floor.
The birds only way of escaping were it's wings.
Those wonderful, beautiful things that no longer existed
because they were clipped long ago.
Wanting to fly it couldn't,
fluttering and small jumps were the only way.
Warn out, tired, and exhausted it reached the window,
and as it was about to escape it was swooped up by it's owner.
Watching as it's freedom escaped it was put back in it's cage.

Looking through bars at the window of freedom.
The bird's beginning to realize that it's freedom,
will never happen...

Afraid.

Afraid.


Give me somebody to love,
almost anybody will do.
Somebody who loves me for me.
No lies, cries, or useless sighs.
Not this time I want something different.

I feel an akward aroma surrounding me,
wherever I go.
It's saying that the life I lead is just not for me.
It's calling for something more, somebody better.
He's standing right in front of me.

He's the one I want.
He's the one I long for.
But I'm afraid to get close.
I'm afraid if we do, we both may lose...
Please not this time.

Don't let this go wrong.
Embracing him is all I want to do.
Don't take that away from me.
I don't want to let go.... not this time.

I'm afraid...
I'm afraid to lose you...

My deadly sin.

My deadly sin.

Is nothing but one word,
and nothing more.
The word that eats me inside,
and teases my hopes and dreams.
A beautiful but deadly thing.

Love.

Mortified.

Mortified.


A distant lie,
with a close inspection of truth.
A hidden face,
with an exposed expression of grief.

Can I be any clearer?

Hiding in the shadows lie you and I,
a hint of light shines through crakes.
Revealing our eyes only for an instant,
secrets and truth are finally exchanged.

This is not about you nor I.

Seasons are forever changing,
it goes from life to death and
death to life, it's just the cycle.
The weak can't cut it, the strong survive.
Human nature and behavior
seems a bit extinct now a days don't you think?

Forget the life cycle what about our feeelings?

Rivers are always running,
ponds are always still.
The best type of water is running,
because it's always fresh.
While ponds sit,
never escaping their confinement.

What type of water are you?
And what type of water am I?

Truth be told.

Truth be told.


The truth is, I never really could decide,
what I wanted in life.
Or for the matter,
who I wanted to be with.
Seems that you and I had more in common,
then you thought.

I always hated when people began to say things such as...
"There's a time for everything," but
when will be my time?
"Death is everywhere," but
where will I be when he knocks at my door?
It's so idiotic...

"Why should I care," or "I don't know," or "I could careless,"
is my reply to almost everything that concerns feelings and such.
Truth is most likey I know why I care and I do care.
Almost silly isn't it?
I have no reason to care, but by my nature I do care more than I should.

What I want in life?
Who I want in life?
When will be my time?
Where will I be when he knocks at me door?
Why should I care?

The truth is, is that.
These questions, I can't answer.
But I could careless...