|Add Memory | Add To Friends|
|loner-skyz (profile) wrote, |
on 11-29-2004 at 4:31pm
|Current mood: hyper
Music: One Year Six Months - Yellowcard
Subject: stale poetry from a bent spine
you're laying here so close to me,
i could reach out and touch you.
yet you are a world apart,
i can never have you as i desire.
you lay there, unknowingly taunting me,
the image of what i cant have.
you cant even grasp the concept,
why do i need you like this?
*stop, drop, and roll*
these empty promises
the fake happiness.
away the pain.
away from me.
if you please...
people look at me,
i wonder what they see.
do they see a happy kid,
grinning about something she did?
or do they notice all the sad,
and wonder would could be so bad?
do they see right into me,
or just my outside plea?
will they believe im just dumb,
or know ive only become numb?
are my bit and pieces what they see,
or an they put it together for the whole me?
i've become a puzzle,
can they pull off my muzzle?
oh, i wonder what they see,
when people look at me..