The beat of my heart makes it difficult
not to be blinded
by the reality of my own thoughts
when they are broken down within the sounds
of my dreams.
Yet, no one hears the wind
running through my mind
and I find nothing is
as it seems.

All I do is race to hide from the smoke of lies
to find subtle truth
inside of uncertainties colors
but what I come across
means nothing to you.  
When I drift off to sleep I bleed mirrored glass
until I forget about the bruises
for a moment
or two.

I want someone to listen to the words I speak
even when breezes fill their hands
and time goes by quicker
than the air they tasted.  
No longer do I wish to live and breathe
In this life of empty rooms
where my heartbeat
is wasted.

Tonight I sit and weave faith upon grounds
where forever
I have searched through eyes
that paint my mistakes with words
of ecstasy.  
Yet still, the beat of my heart
makes it difficult
not to be blinded  by love,
even when
I know....
you lie to me.