I love being in Love but,
I'm not particularly fond of people.
Perhaps I haven't found "the one" even though I don't believe he/she exists, we just settle for the person who annoys us the least.
I don't like relationships.
Simple as that really, it's all good at the beginning but then I just get bored.
I didn't realise it hurt people that much until now.
Then again, I didn't realise how much I prefer the crush feeling and the tense on edge butterfly feeling, until now.

I'm in love with Love.
And she (yes, she) is the most beautiful, blossoming, aspiring, inspiring thing I have ever known.
She is all I've ever deserved.

If you let me,
I could be your best friend.

If you let me,
I could be there for you.

If you let me,
I could let you into my heart.

If you let me,
I would come back round.

If you let me,
I can be the silliest and goofiest.

If you let me be me.

If only you let me,
I might let you in too.

Nowadays, I am a particularly content person.
I write, I study, I watch, I socialise (but only on Wednesdays)
and I am alone.
I have officially finished with the nasty business of a relationship, in fact, I don't think I'm relationship material at all.
All in all, I'm okay with where I am in life.

But at night,
I have to close my bedroom door.
I have to close it as soon as I turn out the lights, so the ghosts of my past regrets don't come sneaking in and come creeping into my head while I sleep.
I must keep them out of me, it's not my fault you see.
I tried so hard to help them all but I'm not as strong as I seem.

I accept my life of sin and solitude.
I'm happy this way, honestly, it's the truth.
You have to believe me, you must.

I'd never thought I would miss you
but here I am!
You see, missing you is odd
because I was so adamant that
I didn't need you.
Missing you is like
saying 'ouch' even though
there's no sign of being hurt.

I don't quite understand it
if I'm honest...
I wanted this
but I know we don't belong together.
Maybe I miss things being easy.
Missing you is
a bittersweet ache, that I'm addicted to.

It's hard to get my thoughts coherent
is this how you felt?
I wish I could ask you for help,
but it's not my place anymore.
I wish I believed your words
that dragged me to stay.
Because if I just had a little faith,
maybe we wouldn't be where we are today.

Yes, we've taken different roads
but for some reason,
my heart sometimes calls out.
It calls out to someone not that far away
but is now unknown.
I don't want to be strangers,
but you just feel like a distant memory
I like to think you don't think about me.
It makes breathing a lot easier.

I like to think you don't think about me.
It makes living,
It makes existing,
feel absolutely misplaced.

Missing you is a weird sensation,
can't say I'm accustomed to this feeling.
It's like being asked a question
that you don't know the answer to.

I don't know what it is,
I'm not sure if it is even you I miss.
I think you're just something comfortable,
someone familiar,
and when I feel lost or confused,
I feel like running to you.
I guess it's because,
you're all I know, or at least knew...

One day you'll be okay, darling
you'll be clean of the blood on your hands
No trace of this soul will come around.
Groans will turn to softening whispers;
then they'll make no sound.

Aren't you used to being alone, darling?
I was an abandoned asylum
Still, you called me home
Nestled in my lungs
Giving breath for your life
You grew and punctured me with your thorns,
your knife

There were cards upon the stove
while you were crying into coffee
grasping your shoulders to shake
a message that you need to understand
There are things we'll just never know
There are things we'll just never know
There are things we will just never know
Can you feel me yet?
Can you feel my voice echo?

This asylum was abandoned before you came
But I can't blame you,
You were too, a haunted place.
But our ghosts just don't see each other
or at least yours won the battle.

It's not your fault, it is mine.
It's not your fault, it was mine.

So tell me, what was it like, darling?
Seeing my body hang like a light fitting,
Never knowing why?

There's a ghost in my house
More like a polterge/ist.
I've     never      seen it myself
But I know it's there.
I can feel it's e)nergy          lingering,
When I come back there's stuff
                     Just laying around.
  Stuff that I just put awa¥y.
Stuff that is^n't even mine.

There's a polterge\ist in this       house
I saw IT once or tw;ice.
There's more than one
They're ¿friendly enough.
Still, they intrude on my life
But I    can't get r¡id of them.
I just want ever@ything back to normal.
So I left.

There are poltergeists in that house
Just d0own the r:oad from the bus stop.
They all live happily together
With a# woman
Whose children have all grown.
Except one, the daughter
                          She lingers in     limbo
Waiting for her home.


Maybe
             she was the
                  poltergeist
                                  ­      All

     ¿¡ %'£     '÷×£-,!!;$@)
                                                  ­      along?

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
-John Lennon

But when you're at the prime of your youth you can't live but you're not sad enough to die...yet.
We are told to "be free, live as if it is the day of your death!"
But what is it to "live" to "be free"?
Because we're never really free are we? We just convince ourselves that we are so we don't mope around all the time.
We think that living is when your heart is beating and your lungs are breathing.
I disagree.

The rush and adrenaline of sitting on the train tracks while a train comes charging at you, unable to stop. That is living.
And if I should die by the force of a train, I will become free.
No more worrying, no more planning other things. That's when I start to live. I'm not living but I live.

Perhaps our life begins after its over because when it ends we already know the beginning and all the morbidity in the middle. Well, the ending isn't much of a surprise we all know that one God ****** forsaken day, you'll suddenly feel cold and weak so you decide to have a little sleep but you never wake up.
No one ever wakes up, so then you're stuck in this dream where no rules apply.

You are free. You can live.
Heaven is only what we make it to be as it lives in us, in our heads, we don't go anywhere it comes to us.