My past just another form of fiction that’s been written to last.
Often I wonder if I’ve simply lost the keys to lock it all up.
“Trust in me I will carry you through†is the promise you made to me,
But you forgot to take anything from me,- except my heart.
Now I long for promises that beautiful girls make to be kept,
Because every time I get close to sharing all of my heart, someone looses it again.
Often I doubt in my judgement of character, when I wait I do it too long.
But when I jump into things, I end up being the only one holding on.
Perhaps next time my fortune will not turn out to be so bitter, meet someone so perfect.
That for once maybe, I can share my heart without having to reconsider.
