dear god they say that everything is created in your vision then why do i feel so imperfect? so alone, so not worth it
they say everything is part of your plan then please, help me understand why am i supposed to suffer go through hell while still on earth go through life when everything hurts
why was i born why was i created why did you give me this life just to make me hate it
if you make no mistakes then what am i i feel so helpless and i want to die if you were real, if you could listen tell me why does this life feel like prison
stuck in a cage no going back i keep praying for the day when my world turns black
the end of times the end of me the only way to finally be free
I miss you, when the woods are still and the river is low In between the spaces that you and I call home Where the ocean stirs... and tides come and go There's a fire that burns... As I ache for your lost soul
Who knows where we'll wake tomorrow At the bottom of a bottle...or the edge of a spoon Still...I hold on hope...that our love's enough to cope And that you'll be coming home soon
It's too easy to take it all for granted When the glass is empty and the dirt is dry I sit alone....eyes slightly slanted Telling myself all anyone can do is try
Through this life and in the next In the winter snow and the spring rain I'll wait for you... by the light of moon Still...holding on hope You'll be coming home soon.
In this life We have love We may not have had The passage of time together The years of naivety Youth or freshness of spirit We have not caressed Our younger bodies Enjoyed the sanctity of being as one When our skin was smoother Our touch was softer Our hearts were open to receiving More congenially A time when we may have Chosen indiscriminately This led us down a road that was Perhaps Right for the time Yet now outgrown ~ The model of love
We have the maturity of mind Still the tenderness of heart Enjoying the ability to cherish That which the Universe brings us We have more complex bodies That savors the relaxed Appeasing, sensuality of love-making Remaining as a priceless work of art Instead of the rushed; less intense Inexperience youth often brings We have each other in what will be The ultimate love of its kind The last known to us in this lifetime Our twilight years, may come and go But we have love that lives on Forever recorded in history The mistakes of the past rewritten Because now, in this life We truly found ~ The model of love
Sometimes, I wonder "What If". Sometimes I wonder "If It Was Me" Then I stop. I look at what I have. All I have since you didn't want me. And I smile. I look in his eyes, brown pools of depth. Real love I find, no superficial ****. And I smile. I no longer wonder "What If"