So soon it seems
I will step out of my dreams

Out of my poems
And into your arms

And once again
Willingly
Fall victim to your charms

And sweetly,  my dear
I'll surrender...

But first I will wrap your arms-
Then your legs
And tease you so badly
Make you beg

For a taste,
Or a touch,
Oooooooooo I love you so much!

I miss me
I miss who I used to be
I miss being selfless
I miss not caring about myself
I miss being able to give the people I love everything

I miss being that guy

but what I dont miss is not getting anything back
I don't miss the constant fear
I don't miss the daily pain

but my dear one I really do miss you

Back cracks from the weight of the world
Hide in your cell for fear of the light
Donning shackles you could remove any time
Nurturing the same demons you fight
but its what you know so you wont break the binds
Love letters are still left unfurled
Train of thought caught on a one way track
A collision course without any remorse
Speed gaining fast
Even though you know theres still turning back
Going nowhere although you've already been there
surveying war torn scenery with a blank empty stare

it is a screen
maybe some beautiful words
and the concept of someone being there for you is so comforting
the w2ant and need for us to fill that hole of lonloiness inside of us is what drives it in the beggining
but when we realize that it does not really fill that gap in our heart
well that is when we look for something else to try and fill that gap
for a while it is the fact that we truly think that someone loves us
and they usually do
but when that does not fill the gap
it becomes the willingness to put in all of our effort when someone else needs it
we do that but in the end you realize that it is not enough
we might do all that we can but over a screen what we do is never enough and never will be
so yes in the end all we truly are to each other is a screen
we may say all those beautiful words but deep down in the deepest darkest hole inside of our hole of lonliness
that is where the reality lies
the truth
the truth that we push down as far as we possibly

He loved many things
He loved to dance
He loved to read
He slept often
And dreamt dreams of beauty and wonder
His life was good
But then he grew up
And he soon had to dance on a dancefloor of blades
His books burnt his mind
His bed became a place of tortured thought
His dreams became dreams of death and destruction
He has no life

You just don't care about me anymore.  Or do you?