You tear open the scars inadvertently revealing my wounded soul
I try to heal while you lead me on and I follow blindly through your words to see if I can find your hidden messages
I can't tell if they're for me because I have the habit of seeing things that are never there
Words have been known to hold secrets within their expressions and phrases
Impossible to know for sure if the instructions were for me although it seems unlikely for them to be for any other
They present themselves in a manner that alludes to references of me or I could just be delusional
It's up to you to tell me because I am just a thought on the wind like a fleeting memory gone without a trace at the slightest misconception


_______________­__

Pull at the seams of my scars
Tear them open
Show the world my wounded soul
As I follow the ink spilled like blood
To find where you disappear to
With your words that haunt me
Echoing allusions to what we should be, might be, have been
With the exception of we haven't been
For reasons beyond my control
Likely I am delusional
Watching my life like a TV show hoping for that happy ending
Always missing the lucky breaks
My naivete showing every time I get my hopes up
As if a fleeting imagining could be real
Or a daydream of a better life that might include you and I comfortable and happy
Such joys don't happen for the likes of us
Trapped by our 8½x11 sheets of paper
Bound to the life of what if's and missed chances
Should then we not tempt fate and try to break free of our isolated prisons
Making up our own lives as we would dare dream
To evoke an immediate erasure of the norm and rewrite it as we wish

__________________­

Tell me now what should be done
This task I fear is too ubiquitous for a lone human to change
But with the help of a friend, a lover, a companion to assist
The burden won't be overbearing
The clockwork will shatter and the pendulum will fall
Revealing a new exciting variation of life

__________________­

Time and again we sit on the eave of a solution
Only to fall back to the safe and comfortable known
However drab, bleak and dreary
Even now as I write this and you read
We see where we can change
Yet we sit and wait hoping for something simple and easy
Biding our time for that which will never arrive