I feel the quilt for the seams
Fingerprints in the dream
And I see you beside me
Hand in mine
And I remember the little things

Memories falling as if leaves
As fall turns into spring
Please slow for just a moment
Hand in mine
As I reminisce passing little things

Hurt to the end point
Broken down from every point

The reasons undefined
Always seemed to disappoint

The way you used to see me
Now feels like the sting of a bee

From the unforgettable moments
Till never ending to agree

All the feelings remain trapped
And the feelings never to adapt

The day that I met you

                                          was the day I knew...

I knew you would hurt me,

                                         break me,

                                                    bruise me.

I knew I would spend all of my nights wondering

      why I wasn't enough,

                              why I didn't deserve your love.

I knew I would spend my time crying,

                                                                hurting,

                                                                       aching for you.

I knew from the moment that I met you that you would leave and I'd never want to feel again.

But...

      I didn't know that all of these years later,

                                                  I would still be loving you.

Most days, I feel numb
numb enough to see life for what it is
numb enough to get tired of most people

Most days, I feel burdened
burdened i don't feel anymore for anyone or anything
burdened that i reflect at my mistakes day after day

Most days, I simply just wander
wander and get lost in my mind till i feel it's abyss
wander till I feel emptiness and nothingness

Most days, I hear voices
of the people who used to matter to me
of my past self lying to those i once loved

Most days, things don't matter
whether i feel something or not
whether it's the sound of people or the earth resonating
most days are like everyday

What is that playing in your head,
that clip suffering that has captured your reality,
and plays them like a broken track record.
If its' not that then it's your fantasy,
that's trying to break free and become reality.

But fear of judgment from the world,
retracts us back to this cruel shell of a mindset
that has been made known by our ancestors.
All those hopes, wild imaginations, and our fantasy,
that is being rejected by those same ancestors,
who vowed to guide us,
but now from their hands do they destroy us.

We who are present history should learn to break free,
to carve and crave our hopes, dreams, and fantasy,
that has been bottled and then turn it to passion.