'I think—I think'
I think—I think when it's all over,
It just becomes a friendly takeover.
It just comes back in flashes, you know?
It's like - a Kaleidoscope,
Of memories. Of... Dreams.
That slither through me. That only I can see. The only thing that, makes me happy...
It just, all comes back to me.
But, he—never does.
As if, what we had never was.
Even though I remember, it's gone.
I think—part of me - knew the second that I saw him,
That this would happen.
It's not really anything he said,
or anything that he did,
It was the feeling that came along with it.
Living in another world - our love created, in which,
I finally felt - I existed.
And the crazy thing is,
I don't know if,
I'm ever gonna feel that way again.
But, I don't know if, I should when I have nothing left - to give.
Is it odd that I feel empty, that, only he can make me whole again?
As I take every breath,
I can feel the pain - him,
Running his fingers through my hair,
As he falls through my fingers - my hands are left bare,
My love is nowhere, and my heart is shattered.
But, when I close my eyes he's always there.
He was not like any other man: he walked like a King,
Smiled like an Angel, and spoke words that ignite all, with a passion, a static song—electrifying,
Speaking, germinating vines of emotionally charged lightning down every spine.
He was unlike anything, he was composed of beauty, and wit.
He was not like any other man: a hybrid,
Charismatic, romantic, a mysterious being, so contradictory and enigmatic.
He was greater than eternity, and when he walked in,
Everyone turned just to look at him.
I knew it, I wasn't meant to be his infinity,
But, I clung to each moment—hoping.
I knew that, his world moved too fast,
That, he burned too bright.
But, I just thought, how can the Devil pull me without a fight?
Pull toward someone who,
Looked so much like... an Angel when he smiles at you?
Maybe the Devil knew ~
That when 'he' saw me,
It'd just make me suffer slowly?
Torture me so delicately,
Feeling empty - nothing, from feeling so sweetly.
In seven days, God created... the world, but in seconds... I shattered mine.
I guess, I just lost my balance - I was spinning in love with his Eyes.
In love with loving being Blind.
I was spinning in love with my heart's Suicide.
I think—that, the worst part of it all, underneath.
Wasn't losing him... It was losing me.
I don't - don't think,
The terror, of losing you, losing everything,
becoming a faceless error - that you know,
I don't—I don't think, you know the burden of the nameless-nametag bearer, you don't know,
who you are until you lose you -
Who you are, and Who...
is just - no one.
If only, I could reconcile the conflict between what I know,
And what I am feeling,
If only, I could quiet what my heart is screaming,
And cease all logic questioning.
I don't—don't believe,
That you know,
Who you are until you lose what makes life worth living,
Until you lose 'you' -
Who you are, and Who...
Together with your lost identity,
Begging—to all of your loved ones,
Those who, you whispered to, "I'm sorry, don't let go, don't leave me - alone, I'm already hurting."
Silently whispering, in every wasted action—all the time hinting until you're torn between sad and happy, torn—a fraction, hinting - hints that go unseen,
To them, To everyone,
But, in the ending,
But, do nothing.
By: Ashton C. Amstutz