I need to teach myself
that when they leave,
when they fall out of love,
when they reject,
It's not always because of my inadequacy
but rather it speaks
volumes about them.

I'd tell you to go to hell but you've created it like a fire within me.

You cant hate me for things you've done before
you cant slam an already closed door

For I have locked you out
and the key is in cement

You cant own what was never yours
you cant borrow what you had already stole

For I have locked you in a jail
and mangled it shut

and I cant be yelled at anymore
and I cant be the one to scream for help at that your cold shoulder.

i miss the Boy who saved stray feathers
but never gathered dust
whose every move spoke volumes
yet never smelt of must

precious little time we stole
to be young before the dawn
how is it that now i hear
His voice in every song...?

i miss the Man who gave me peace
but helped me fight my war
who i count closest to my heart
yet distant as a star

His armor was of black and white
but even so i swear
that color flooded every mem'ry
He saw fit to share

i've often wondered who He is
or if He ever was
bittersweet and ethereal
this Dream i had of "us"...

The volumes I speak of,
Do they not speak volumes?