There are people to miss, we've seen so much.
It's all behind us now.
Everything. A memory.
A branding of chemicals in our cerebrum.
Every millisecond of our so-called existence.
Every heart beat.
It's but a principal of physics.
Maybe nothing more than that?
No?
It's all just it our heads.
We're all just in our heads.
Our heads are in our heads.
Our heads are a myth.
Everything made up by our heads is a myth.
Nothing more,
Nothing.
But what we refer to as,
The big vaccuum.

It truly is that simple; if you want Truth, change your chapter of story. If you want a lie, keep re-reading your past chapters repetitively, possibly driving you insane.

Is anything real anymore,
except all these ******?
I can't help but be skeptical,
it seems like everything is mythological.  

Does anyone know how to feel,
or am I an apple in an orange's peel?
All the talk of this and that,
but none of it is matter-of-fact.

Is this the truth I'm seeing now,
or have I been tricked again somehow?
It seems like we're a new race,
it's different to talk face to face.

What has technology done,
look at what we have become.
All we know are our phones,
it's time to create some new tones.

We need to change,
things shouldn't be this way.
Is anything real anymore,
except all these ******?

I cant help but be skeptical,
it seems everything is mythological.

it's been a long trip since innocence
the distant city of joy
where my tongue believed in candyfloss
my footsteps in lyrics
sugar coated moments wrapped in colorful layers of truth
so many layers of truth

I since took a degree in doubt
they taught me how to earn a living
feeding fear to babies
selling carrots to dinosaurs
how all immortal things
are shiny posters on double-decker buses
running over bridges at night

fantasies are clinging to minds
like fluff to a sticky tape
when church bells ring till death do us part
I sigh, lift my pint and cheer:
another graduating photo.

My consumption is somehow sinful but in a fabricated way that makes honey seem like cyanide, or perhaps just the opposite (, I'm not sure in truth). Delight is suppressed by my self-skepticism working to root out my faithful and trusting naivete. Somehow skepticism gets lost in my incessant wanderings and wonderings and surely in my pensive ponderings. I debate what your truth is and if you have seen the same paintings that hang in my walls and in my memories. It must be acknowledged, the chance that you have forgotten and remembered the entire Nothing. My only prayer is that you might have insomnia.

Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results, right? So what should I call it if I do this one more time and get the different answers? Someone forgot to factor in the unpredictability rate of females.
But I didn't.
I recognize how you do, what you do, so please don't underestimate the things done to or by any of us.
We are the angels of heaven, the gods of rome, the royals of England. Shall I go on? It seems needless if you get the points I'm making.
SO to start off, how are you today? Sure, I see you everyday, but that's the point. I wanna give you your deserved space, so when I stay at my table as you walk passed, don't think I'm ignoring you, I'm just trying to give you the space you are due, for I want to preserve this romance like strawberries in the winter.We
are what you seek, but I believe you seek more. WHat is it? Please, be straight with me, my heart cannot bare another user nor another usery. DO you see what I see when we lock eyes in class? Do you understand the concept of MY love? For my love, regardless of long or short, is different in comparison.
I know I've spit this before, I know you're tired of the same words to describe a different game. This isn't me anymore, it's us. This isn't courtship anymore, it's love. Actual love, I've never felt it before, never had it's taste on my tongue nor it's thought in my head.
But you've put it there. The chance for a real relationship!!! Am I really ready? Are you? then get ready, get set, let's go!!!!!!! The race is on, now I realize what the true effect you have on me is.
Now I can tell you how much I love you and how much I care for you, even if it's just a telepathic wish, you will feel the presence of it in  your forethought.
You make me want to overdose on love music, chillin on the bed in complete darkness, just marinating on the words and anylising there meanings, yes you, my heart and soul, sold to me by an unlikely vender, your soul.
So we traded, bartered actually. your heart for mine, a likely trade. But what are the expected drawbacks? No, I'm no skeptic, but I am real, so what are the real intentions of so magnificent a spirit?
I will be yours, for you are mine, but don't hurt me, please. I stay on my knees in prayer of an unbroken heart, yet so often it is. Alas, you are the one, so will my heart be safe? So often I asked that, so often it was answered with the same words, same attitude, yet at first chance they pulverised me as if I were a stone on a stone crusher, so all I ask is for you not to do that to me, my love.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, it's all on me. Why try to fool me again? My heart's already withering...

Who knows?
None but myself.
Who has experienced?
None but myself.
Who cares?
Surely, none but myself.