Paused.
Waiting for my turn to call the shots to push play
Time for the laughter lost.
Time for the joy I can't recall.
Timid actions that only kept me from smiles and friends
Trying to add up the times I wanted to be there when you where hurting but couldn't
Adding the times you needed me but didn't bother to check and see how you were doing
Longing for that moment when I see your face again as if it had been a lifetime

But counting up the times I said "I LOVE YOU!!!" should be limitless.
Time.

What did they find?
                  Years of brokenness and lies that don't even know the whole truth if it were handed back to my closet.
How did they find it?
                  Through desperate attempts to force the unknown that was hidden into the seemingly unbearable known that was proven to be true.
Who benefits from being in my closet?
                  The Unknown.

Someone has been in my closet.

No rank. No class.
No substantial evidence to convict that spirit of ****** when the hands aren't even ******.
No reason to feel grief but sadness is the only real way to coop.
Rage confines the being of confidence, suffocates it lime a Boa, then devours the prey (being)

Where there is no confidence fear can control what the being has tried to cover up in an undeniable rush to keep what is secret hushed.
No Title.

People. Mirrors.
They have one thing in common. They lie!
Mirrors paint abstract designs through your eyes fooling the smartest person you could ever know.   ~Yourself~
But we still use them to dress up our self to make beautiful for the upper class people.
People on the other hand use us as *** toys in a king sized bed where males are dominant.
Through the pain of my daddy's tragic lose in the storm (inside pain and lose) his love is still here.
Daddy's Sorrow.