When the time comes,
when you find yourself, when you find
your heart, in two places
when will be the time
when you find yourself, your heart
where it belongs?

I love you both, I do,
but who's to know
who's heart
will consume mine,
before the other.

I love you both, I do, I do.
Yet I love him more,
than I do a move.

I swear, I love you both, I surely do.
So which will come to choose?
The heart I reside in,
or the great move?

To be a friend your goal is not to follow nor to be civil.
To be a friend is to be the most genuine part of yourself.
If you were a friend, you would not have taken
my words and mold them into what you tried to remake as your story.
If you were a friend you would have let me keep the most
genuine part of myself.
If you were a friend, even a person, if that at all,
you would have let me keep the angel that was never to be yours.
My angel that was never to be inside of you.

If you were a human,
you should have fixated yourself on something
other than my promising beginning.
If you had not lost your
humanity (long ago),
you'd be so much more than you are
perceived.
Yet you are as told,
words leftover of an
envious soul.
And here you are once again,
heart left torn out
because your legs fell a bit too obtuse.