And he will fill your heart with so many nerves, you will mistake it for your brain.

Christ heart breaks for those whom are hurting right now.
But some refuses to allow his Love to wash over them now.
Christ heart breaks for the proud whom refuse his very existence.
But Christ sits there waiting for the right the right time to judge him.
Yet his heart still breaks over the prideful cold heart toward him.
Christ heart breaks for so many hearts that needs his healing touch.
Yet they refuse to accept his ways are good, they want to stay in sin.
Even though he loves them and his heart is breaking for them daily.
He is a Holy Savior whom hates sin worst then anything else.

I cannot tell a lie
And I will not lie back
To watch you *deny the truth
I never really loved you
I only ever felt affection
For all the abuse
That I knew I deserved
You may think it absurd
But how could I possibly
Love someone else
When I have yet to learn
How to love myself?
Or even live with myself?

Show a smile based on a lie,
Or a frown based on the truth,
Which would you prefer?
I'd like to smile
Once in a while
But I cannot tell a lie
And I will not lie back
To watch the truth die
In the soulless eyes
I see in my mirror
That girl whispers to me
But I cannot hear her
So she fades away
Silently

Yet, I know
This cannot be my destiny
Lies of smiles
Truths of frowns
It's bringing me down
I could think of a million lies
But only six eyes
To help me smile
More than just
Once in awhile
I cannot tell a lie
And I will not lie back
To watch you steal my smiles
My truths
My everything

I will stare in your eyes
While you spout all your lies
And watch you crumble
And Fall
While I smile
Standing tall
Staring down at your frown
Wishing you knew the truth
That I cannot tell a lie
And **I never really loved you

"...But truthfully I'd rather stare at your hands. I enjoy how they never shake the way mine do as though I've been carrying an object as heavy as my heart for too long; but they're always empty. I enjoy the way you wrap them around pencils, and coffee cups with a tight grip. I like the way you make it seem like you don't let go very easily. I used to rest in weak hands. I used to slip through the fingers of people who shook me off while I held on as though my life depended on them. I think the problem with the way I live is that I often never give myself the satisfaction of controlling whats mine. I'm not strong enough to make anyone stay. I'm not good enough for them to ever want to. I've lived with this reality making home in my mind but there's something about the way you looked at me this morning; kind of the way an artist looks at a finished canvas in total awe. Maybe that was the moment that I realized that I should probably stop staring at your hands and make love to your eyes. The way the light up as though you've been swallowing lightning bugs. The way you never hesitate to let them linger. The way their blue reminds me of the walls of my grandmas house that was built up with hands that look just like yours. I like the way you stare even when your blood isn't laced with alcohol. Almost as though I'm the painting that no matter how long you look at it; it still remains beautiful. The truth is, my walls are covered in love letters and poems written for someone I never knew... that was until I met you."

Is it now, or is it ten years ago?
A decade long narcissistic show

Is passing time a sensory illusion
All adding up to the same conclusion?

My heart is beating, that I know
Surely I am reaping what I sow

I feel I progress and yet stand still
A paradox with time to ****

It still hurts at 3 a.m.