I Can't Help Not Helping Him

I'd give it all away if I knew where I left it.
It's all in pieces and every girl I ever loved
holds a tiny piece whether she knows or not.
Although I promised otherwise, I still forgot.

Crawling on to search new skies within eyes;
Some sparkle, some burn, some swindle.
They're all full of hapless hope and sensibility,
It reminds me of my senseless sense of humility.

So I ask them if they'll take my hand or walk away.
They take my hand, glance at my soul and say,
"I'll be here tomorrow to hide you from your sorrow,
I'll help you pull the trigger on the gun you've yet to buy"

An instrumental accidental overdose -
love or hate, the drug has never mattered,
men and women both deny and instigate.
We're all human and the disease is innate.

I want to find a pair of eyes, glossy grey,
to look right through the flesh and bone,
to find the ink and rewrite my stolid script.
I want some peaceful eyes outside a crypt.

So he tells you he loves you and that he's not ready
to come out because his thoughts are scared and unsteady,
so you wait beside him in a lonely room inside your mind.
He finds refuge in a girl who doesn't know you're left behind.

Well what's just one more time if you don't know for sure
that what follows is a million more pieces you'll never find?
I closed a piece of my heart in their palms for them to keep;
they walked away and we all forgot that love's not cheap.

If I got them back would I even know where they fit?
Do I want them back or do I hate them, too?
They meant something and nothing like the snow,
and all I know is that life wastes away too slow.

What is there to say when only one of us speaks?
How do I love you when your heart never leaks?
I want nothing more than to kiss you on your cheeks,
why is it so hard to spare me all these lonely weeks?

Even in my dreams you avoid my tender touch,
I wish I knew how to tell you that you mean so much...
I hate the rhymes and I hate the careful crimes.
I hate my approach and I hate myself for loving you.

A poem you may never see, and a sea unfree;
I'm down on my knees because of memories,
they are stuck with me and won't let me be.
I hate the rhymes and I hate myself for loving you.