I stand at the edge, not looking down but straight ahead.
I can feel the emptiness under the tips of my toes, I feel the shallow depth of my existence.
When you ask yourself why? what is your answer?
I think of love, I think of fate, I think of hate and responsibility.
Will I ever be what they are to her? Will she ever dance with me, sing with me, love with me the way she dreams of them?
Will I ever be her forever or does that only come to the lost and broken hearts?
She doesn't see me, she only sees herself, she thinks she is alone.
My emotion can not reach her.
I stand at the edge, not looking down but straight ahead.
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 11:42 AM UTC
I stand at the edge, not looking down but straight ahead.
I can feel the emptiness under the tips of my toes, I feel the shallow depth of my existence.
When you ask yourself why? what is your answer?
I think of love, I think of fate, I think of hate and responsibility.
Will I ever be what they are to her? Will she ever dance with me, sing with me, love with me the way she dreams of them?
Will I ever be her forever or does that only come to the lost and broken hearts?
She doesn't see me, she only sees herself, she thinks she is alone.
My emotion can not reach her.
I stand at the edge, not looking down but straight ahead.