Its the same old feeling I cant help but feel I am beginning to become OBviously quite CLEARLY aware - Shaking my head at how ever so OBlivious I was .
To how deceitful How misleading ANd how amazing You just really are. ITs an art form A trickery of the trades. One I am so sure to be passed on from generation to generation In YOUR coniving blood line.
I became a helpless victim Convincing me what we had - What we presently have and what our ever so pretty future should be filled with
YOu called it love- However, LOve should not be cold miserable and tension filled
L O V E so spaced out It will never come together it will never be what it should You are the boy of the past A figment of my once toxic filled dreams.