If I cared, would I have said something to you,
If you cared, would you have left before I was even breathing,
If you cared, would you have gone off and had another family,
If you cared, would you have been there to interrogate my first boyfriend,
If you cared, would you have been my superman,
If you cared, would you have loved me as much as you do the other kids?
If you cared to stay, would you love me at all?
Happy fathers day, I suppose-

With in the words-there is just more words-
Passion-
Not found in words-
It's in the feeling-
The light in the eyes-
The love-the sorrow-
The tone-that is grasped with every risking breath-
There is so many definitions-
With too many words-
With no full meaning-
Passion is our own-
The things that we can never live with out-
Take hold and never let your definition slip-away-

Trying to keep a smile
So they don't know
So they don't ask-why?
So they don't see the real reason

I try my hardest to show the real
Me...
Afraid that it was lost so long ago
The feeling of being hidden,
Being caged behind my flaws-
Is the only thing that seems to keep me secure,
The fear of the real me
Grows stronger every day
And with it the more, I'm hoping,
I can stand until the end
With a-Smile-

Friends, just friends nothing more-
Close friends...really close friends-
Thats as close as it will ever get
Well-
That until you asked for a hug-
Then we were closer than-close friends-
But not close enough-
Well-
That until you didn't ask, you just did
A kiss-on the cheek-
Just when I thought is was-Love?-

I saw you sitting with her-
Laughing-
You looked at me-and smiled-
Then looked back at her-

-What went wrong?-

Laying awake - silence,
Nothing but the beat of your heart to the breathing rhythm of the tired house.
You sleep - the night goes slowly,
You dream.
Each time you wake - the house,
That benevolent house - is there to greet you.
Rubbing your eyes you see - the shadows of the rising sun,
That ever so graciously reaches out its long rays - to warm the branches of the lifeless trees.
Walking down the stairs you hear - creeks in the old floorboards.
For they have been worn down from the constant memories,
That have seeped into each little crack.