I can't seem to write about anyone just you, my muse, and the words flow through my head when I did not like you, when I hated you, when I liked you, and when I like you. It seems to never fail we are forever in different phases of our lives, our feelings never the same, your ready I'm not, the single instance I have you are hurt. Should this be a signal? Does what I say in reality mean anything or do the words float in the air like smoke there in your mind gone the next. Are you scared? You tell me I like the thought of you, not who you are yet you are the only one who really knows me, sees past my arrogant facade, past the mask of my life, your afraid of what could have been, what can be, afraid of the hurt that you've had, just maybe closing your heart like I once did, like I should. Once again numb from touch or feeling. Just maybe it is time for me to finally move on leave this relationship in stone and place it into the facade. I've struggled once before maybe this time will be different maybe this time I'll be successful, maybe I've always needed to hear we won't be together, can't be together from you or maybe I will lie to sleep and think of you because I like the thought of you, the thought of you and me. Just maybe. These words I lay are better left unsaid to others, only spoken in a whisper of the wind, a thought blown from a relationship in shambles, a war that never ends, words as our bullets and this script as the explosion. These bullets short and sharp but long and lasting in the heart. The words imprinted on the insides of your heart, the ink coursing through you. We both say words that don't mean a thing we say things that hurt without realizing it. We are better off if we don't say a word. This is me saying nothing and everything all at once.
