Where is the line between life and death? And why can't we just cross it whenever we want?
Can a person be on the line? Both dead and alive? Or neither dead nor alive?
Why are we threatened with hell when we simply want the pain to end?

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you"
I repeat this mantra days on end to remind myself of the pain you caused, when I was young and lost and confused and naive.
Naive.
A silly girl in "love". Believing in the impossible, hoping for it to last forever.
Eternity is all we have but nothing in this world is eternal. So when I am lost, I turn to the illusion of freedom that I might one day achieve.

Your cursed this day

She said she saw you in that hotel
and now I quietly beg her to take me there
never wanting to miss the opportunity of accidentally seeing you myself.
we drive by the hotel often and I can see you with my eyes closed, sitting inside the lobby I have never been in,
imagining you eating in a restaurant that only exists in my mind.
perhaps,
thats it,
you are just in my mind

I'd like to think that I can speak to you with my mind. That our thoughts are interlinked, intertwined, like our DNA which can only be altered by a mutation. What is the mutation of our relationship?
Is it the force? Is it the fear? Is it the lack of trust?
Is it me?
Is it me?
Is it me?

In my dreams
I see you vividly, as you follow me around.
I see your puffy lips, your small blue eyes, you brown hair that I could swear was ***** blonde,
I see your bushy eye brows, your straight nose, your imperfect skin.
In my dreams, I see you.

As I open my eyes
You disappear without a trace, and although I know
Your features, and I know them well. I can't place them all together.
Your face becomes the face of a stranger.
As I open my eyes, you cease to exist.

Why do we struggle to accept our beauty?
Why is it so much easier to notice our own flaws?