When did being alive become synonymous with being dead?
If your body is filled with empty words and silent actions
then who are you to say that you are living?

Every day is like the last
it seems as if all the best ideas come from the past
I try to reach across the divide
but all I get is empty static moving through time.

What were you to me?
It is only now when you are gone
That I begin to find out

Yearning for a glimpse of hope,
Out you come to save me
Under the frozen skies of winter

We ventured
Eager to find a hand to hold
Roaming through the snow, we found each other
Endlessly trapped in each other's embrace

Mesmerized, we continued to walk hand in hand
Inking the songs we made in our hearts forever
Never to be forgotten, I'll always hum the tunes we made
Every time I think of you

In most silences there is a hint of regret
One not easily overcome.
The awkward silence of not knowing what to say.
The fear of rambling about nothing as most times
It's better to remain silent.
The after thought of finally finding the perfect thing to say,
Always after the moment has passed.
Random references, awkward stares.
I hate mental blocks.
Especially when it comes to someone that you've been thinking about all day.
Of all things in the world why is it hard to find that one perfect thing that won't
Succumb to the peer pressure of finally arriving at the moment when thought becomes
Action.
That one thing that won't make you appear completely insane to a complete stranger