So where are you now.
Sleeping tight in your bed,
while I’m writing this.
Not a single thought going through your mind.
While I’m trying not to break.
While I’m thinking I won’t be able go wake up.
While I’m going through my memories.
While I’m hurting myself almost like you are.

You are not my home,
because my home is a chaos.
You are not in my head,
because you are not lost.
You don’t know my heart,
because you should only know happiness.
You are not beautiful like words,
because they cannot describe you.
You are not my everything,
because you are not mine,
you are just everything.

You know emptiness,
when only a strong pain can make you feel something.

When I look at you
I see a (im)perfect thing.
Always with(out) smile on your face.
Soul(less), full of emotions and will to feel.

Shininess of your hair, sparks in your eyes.
Young body trapped in even younger mind.
You want to see the world (from below).

You have so much to (not) live for.
(What are we waiting for, let´s run
into a field of eternal suns.
Where light shines slower
and words are not so strong.)

I was hoping that when I try my best
it will be good.
But I am trying my hardest
and it´s still bad.
Why would you laugh
when I cry.
Why would you be so careless
to see me leaving.
Why is breaking my heart
making your eyes light up.
Why is making me feel useless
the only way to entertain yourself.

I wouldn’t be with me either.