I have this horrible habit of not feeling my feelings
I don't know if its because I'm scared or if I even do feel
Maybe in the moment I don't; feel
Maybe those emotions just throw themselves into the ever spinning ball of feelings swirling in the catacombs of my mind
And they just sit and fester

Maybe all this is true:
But where do they go, you ask.
Well its a damning thing it is
That one small, tinny, most insignificant event can release months worth of anger, despair, and fear and hate
The tiniest thing can unveil the truth
The curtains which hides my eyes lifts for maybe one moment
But I already see it and I begin to cry
Because what I see, I don't like
What I see, I hate

So I sit here clamping my teeth so hard they might shatter
Holding my breath so in my throat sobs gather
Worthless tears that don't even matter
I threaten myself, I threaten, my heart
I threaten I'll beat me until my skin parts
Yet, nothing will happen
I'll probably forget the one day that I felt
And I'm ashamed to tell you why
Because what I do is wrong:
I just walk away
I make no changes
I once again feel no more
Why?

Because I'm scared out of my ******* mind
I'm scared, and I can't tell anyone
Because if I do its real
And if its real
Then I'm ******

If dreams came true, I'd be there by your side.
We'd watch our favorite movies while drinking coffee on the couch.
If dreams came true, you would tell me that you're sad.
I would tell you I feel the same.
That everything would be okay, and not to be afraid.
If dreams came true, we'd be the only two adults dancing in the rain.
People would stare, but we wouldn't have time to care.
If dreams came true, I'd be there when you had nightmares.
I'd hold you in my arms and chase the dark away.
If dreams came true, you and I would be a melody, and it'd be my favorite song.

I told you I'd follow you until the end, but it looks like we're already there.
So watch me disappear, deep in my despair.

What's the point in trying when i'm just going in circles?
There's no point.
No start.
No end.

Do you remember the nights? Back when we would chase the shooting stars under a canvas sky stained black. Nights we held so dear, prancing in the twilight.
                              Those nights led to coffee-shop mornings. Mornings when the "House Blend" was the only thing keeping our eyes open. Mornings that we spent holding each other tight, watching the sun climb in the meridian.
                               I thought those days would last forever, but here I am, kissing this cigarette. Wishing on those same stars that we used to chase.