Have all the instigations of my heart issues dawned insinuations of my used tissues, Or am I the one to blame? Can I trust a mind that never stays the same? How are there no answers, in the windows of your eyes? Why arenβt my instincts strong enough to overcome these lies I make up in my mind, the ones that bring peace, but only for a time in between my insanity? For the very next moment Iβm wise enough, I wish I was always wise enough, to come back to reality.