a quiet illness,
fills silent air,
open doors closed in despair,
the anxious thought leaves life unfair,
but buried deep,
the strongest care.

i dont want to write my feelings,
behind the safety of a door,
(stay in here)
can i break down these walls,
hold the things i adore?
(they don't love you back)
Don't need to write you back in,
i should appreciate the space,
(come back to me)
and the friends i have left,
i'd rather talk to their face.
(three missed calls)
So let me put this bottle down,
out of luck or some divinity,
(just one more)
cause i don't want a tomorrow,
if i can't love what's in front of me.

(What's in front of me?)

if i could stop then i would,
no longer feel that i should.
when the sky comes down,
lay me down in the mud.
and what you don't know,
you wish that you could.
all the bad in my eyes can't abide all your good.

well i tried.

and i tried,
so why lie about things i cant hide?
dont know what keeps me alive.

so close to what i cannot touch,
the feeling felt within the drunk,
it might as well become the sun,
the unattained that burn with love.
rebelled against that shaky turn,
then crashed into a dying fern.
the kind of love that's meant to hurt,
the growing pains have lost their spurt.