Why must I cry?
There’s nothing sad, just me creating confusion.
I don’t want anyone around.
I’m lonely by my own choice; it’s easier this way.
Wish my mind way stable, wish it were controllable.
I can’t help what I feel, though I try, and so I lie.
I lie to myself and those who love me.
But do they really love me? Or do they love the idea of me,
or perhaps what I used to be.
Whoever I was, I’m no longer.
I hope they come to know that before its too late,
Too late for my heart, and its naivety.
But is it ever really too late? Not with me.
Though I wish something, anything could be set in stone within my mind.
But nothing.
Sure ill fake it, even convince myself of it, but nothings real.
Nothing anymore.
Hurting, it’s natural now.
Happiness is rare, that’s why it’s so cherished.
Wish I could love you, I don’t. I love the idea,
at least I know the difference.
Am I only done because there’s nothing left to learn?
Have I figured it all out?
If you love someone you do what’s best for them;
Whether that be to stay and love their faults,
Or to leave and never return to their heart.
Music slowly eases the pain,
But how did I even become this way?
Now more than ever I’m confused with me,
But at least I’ve broken my own hypocrisy.
Most call it realization, I call it depravation.
I need something to keep me going,
I’ll always have someone,
But my someone will always have someone else.
I’m not needed, but that’s okay.
I’m not one to be utilized anyway.
Not with the way I use, scariest part is I don’t know I’m doing it…
Until it’s done.
Until they have to pick up the pieces I left behind.
Always trying to get rid of what I don’t need,
That’s just the way I was brought up to be.
But you see I don’t need anything,
And now there’s nothing left for me.
I did this to myself, but I just hate false illusions,
Of my own heart and mind.
Want to control it, need to control it, can’t control it.
I want to feel, I need to feel, but I can’t feel.
I only feel the past, and the past is gone.
I can’t make a future, not with anyone,
Because in a few years I’ll say I’m done.
Isn’t it sad I can’t trust myself?
That’s why I’m all alone.
My subconscious will eat you alive.
While I sit there and watch you die.
And at the end, ill ask myself why.
All my heads answers, my heart will deny.
I’ll want you to understand, so I consider this letter to give.
But I don’t think I will, would you like to know why?
Because all of this is probably another lie.
I can’t tell anymore, so I just don’t try.
Goodbye