Rex Wrter @gaeds
The stained grey skin in a suit of moonlight
It will wear off by the heat of our hands for sure
Raging in the tears reflected in the mirror so tight
It is your heart that makes it catch up with the shadow
The bright colored days that won’t be forgotten
Even so that-
The happiness would be sought
Beyond the lies and the piled up distrust
Even if it would turn it’s back to me
The innocent laugh would hold it together
That day you cried with me
Soaked in my dreams that were beyond time
Locked in a hidden lulaby
We sang it
Without realizing the meaning
Of course, one day comes and it is all a shame
Didn’t I know that we would share the pain?
Teared away secrets and promises would-
Soon make their way
Even so then-
If I had a chance to admit
Leaving my reasoning behind just to commit
I wouldn’t ask a thing, just for once-
I would see your face…
It is a lie that is burried
As of my now, the way, I look back and see the fog
Between your cheeks and something I can’t recall
Everything is buried in my hands with a heaviness I can no longer hold
Even if I-
Couldn’t revive
Figure out
That moving in the different direction would leave me lonesome-
I have a piece in my heart, telling me
The dreams would come back with their melancholia
I hate my life. It is so selfish, but I really do. I don’t know if anyone is ever going to forgive me. I don’t want to find a reason to be happy anymore. I just have to accept that either life has failed me, or I have failed life. I lost all my friends, things I love to do are meaningless.
I can’t even imagine a future world that has me. It is heart breaking. I also, can’t imagine any scenerio where my friends left me for a reason other than me being an asshole. I don’t even want anyone to confront me. I see my friends every night in my dreams. I get dissapointed when I wake up. Even after all the time spent together, non of what I say makes sense to them. Almost as if they realized something way after it happened. Or they changed . In a normal world, I wouldn’t want any of that to happen. But it is too late. It is not like I can end it like a dream. It is unfair.
I don’t want them to feel the same kind of loneliness that I feel. Then why do I always share it with them? That must be why. But do I really have anything else to share? There is no way to maintain it unless I (somewhere in the graph) become the kind of person I hated when I became their friends.
