I already have,
        I'll always be looking
You just have to let me find you

It was the little things
that pushed her to the edge
The exaggeration of an issue
  or the complete ignorance
The worthlessness of her words
  or the praised, thrown back worth

Blissful contradiction? I think not.

It always started
with the sensation of
                      hands
they clawed at each other
enough to draw blood
till she lost sensation of all
                      but hands.

The rain fell,
from the storm no too high above
But little did she notice
because-    the sensation of
            hands.

Her soul was ripping
She was dying
Her eyes raining
Her body shattering
but-

         The Sensation of Hands.

He'd been running for days
trampling every flower he could

  He despised flowers you see,
they proved no purpose
no worth.
But they  loved flowers more than him
he had worth, at least more than flowers-
                                    didn't he?

Floating,
  she wasn't living
                 laughing
            crying
She was floating,
It was a trivial life
nonexistent-  
                     floating.

to live,  to die
  she mustn't decide
for it isn't her
  decision to make

or is it?