I am a blank piece of paper.
And you are my pencil.
I drift in the wind, hoping, it will take me farther.
But you grab me and crumble me, just, alittle.
And when you go to erase the words, you've written on my heart.
It doesn't quite come off. It smudges and will never
give you that fresh start.
To rewrite the words you've already spoken.

I am Unique.
And you are my confidence.
Running away and fleeing in a time of need.
When I yearn to be myself.
You store yourself on the top shelf,
Where I can not reach.

I am a balloon, tide to a string.
And you are. A rock.
I want to go higher but you hold me down.
By your stubborn weight.
The heart says YES!
But the brain says NO!
Avoiding in realistic chances of fate.

I am LOVE and you are TRAGEDY.
Bending and breaking in a mafia of complete opposite.
We are, to different people.
But we are, exactly, the same.  

I give.
You take.
I can help.
But you take what's important and shove it under the bed.
You walk around me and continue to PRETEND,
To look for love.
I am right here.
I will hold you up, when you are weak.
I will agree with you, when I am right.
I will tell you, you sing beautifully, when you can't really sing.
I will let you when, every fight.
I will love you.
But you will not love me.
For I am LOVE.
And you are, TRAGEDY.