why do i feel that i am the one who should have to bleed for your tears?
why am i so afraid that i can't even move?
when does something thing good feel even better when i am worn out and covered?
why does it burn even when my wounds are far healed, and my razor is well hidden?
why can I not go through even one nite without resorting to another kind of sky?
another kind of me and even more pain then either of us could ever handle.
more then what we say we want, and less of what we know we need.
these words, red, written, and read on me
so illiterate but so well read
so insecure, but you still lock me up
so empty, but you still seem to fill my heart and empty my head
i know your scared, because i feel it in your kisses.
i know by your touch - rough - painful - and jealous
you question me, and why i am. i dont question you - i just know!
you maynot see this, or you just might close your eyes to it.
you may think that this is all a lie, or that i am nonexistant, but even if your gone
my hurt will only beat your name.
my hurt will engulf my heart - flooding what ever is left inside and eating me from the inside out
letting my pain run from my head - letting me feel how much i need you, when i know you will never come back
how can i think of you with out whitewalls, and slow ceiling fans,
how can i think about you breaking me
you cutting me,
you kissing me.
but your heart is better then your hurt