Love Disease

July 28, 2010
My heart is nonexistent, but from what I’ve heard it’s quite exquisite.
If I can’t be hurt, then what is pain? That must be the reason nothing flows through these icy veins.

My minds obsessed with mixed emotions, but love is not the focus.
I’m like a zombie, not dead or alive. And my only way to survive is to feed, but on what insides?

I’ve always lived like this, and I’m constantly drawn to my faith.
That if I hope and pray every night and day, that maybe someday my heart could change its ways.

I wonder if there’s one place on earth, Where healing is always promised.
Cause it doesn’t quite feel like home, When you’ve got this fear of always being alone.

I have no heart that could be torn apart, But I’ve been torn from the very start.
Life’s never the same without all the pain, cause it’s in my opinion, that’s what keeps you sane.

If tragedy is never ending, Then I’m still waiting for my re-birth.
Lies after lies, I’m just so sick of pretending.

My mind’s been tattered, and I’m socially shattered.
If happiness is the enternal answer, Then where can I find my key?

I can’t ask for help, But if I could, what’s my disease?
Cause there was never a we, it’s always been me, and only me.

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