I wear my heart on my sleeve, but that shirt is hanging in my closet gathering dust with all the other things I have left behind. The love notes, kisses for autographs and picturesque photographs are packed in a box. forgotten, but always in reach.
I am looking through one way glass at the world, screaming at the top of my lungs, but no one can hear me and I try so hard to get their attention... The attention of those who are never worth it.
One foot stands in the cool breeze of loneliness like the maudlin moonlight of a midnight freedom while the other stands in hopeful cecity to feel the warmth of lips on my cheek or a hand lightly clutching mine...
I am stuck between universes, like the space between dreams and the waking world. Here I live and here I watch.