All my words come from reason. If not for you, they're for me, they give me something to believe in.

Live the life I lust for. I'll live vicariously through you.

What is suicide when your soul has already died?

How is she?

how are we?*

What about me? Dead.

The tree portrays trust to tangle in the winds gusts.

Allow your mind to envelope my words in ways the leaves move freely.

Entwine with my body, silent secrets, sweet something's, shadow my sheer sorrow.

I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself.
                                                              
No matter how many times I wipe your tears away
Or tell you how beautiful you are.
                                                                
You have to want to hear it and stop crying.

No matter how much I try make you smile
Or hug you close.

You have to want to smile and embrace me back.

No matter how much I wish I could save you.

The only person that can do that is you...