C/O of pain

Because chemistry doesn't matter when you don't have timing.
And I've come to understand that I'm not a body that contains a soul.
                                                                  I am a soul that is in possession of a body.
And never have I dealt with something more difficult than my soul.
I became high off my ambitions. And learned that you were more of a lesson than a blessing.
You represent what want. No where close to who I want.
                                                                 My legs don't work like they use to.
If I never found love like yours again, it'd be a relief.
I've spent a lot of timing searching for love in shallow spaces.
Places I've become unwelcome to.
                                                                 In the darkness, I found light. In myself, I found loveliness.
You are wrong.                             
                                                        And once I stopped chasing wrong things, right things caught me.
Now forget to remember your pathetic pitty party and be my friend.
                                                                 He makes me want to believe. He is all that I see.
I had my ways. They were all in vain.  
You shout it loud.
                                                                But I don't hear a word you say.
It's you who have further to fall.
                                                                Now he takes me in his loving arms.
Let me be.
Let me be.
Let me be.

Everything in Particular.

There's a particular kind of suffering for those who's heart is forced to change at will of the mind.

A particular kind of crying when you awaken screaming because the dream was superior to reality.

A particular kind of embarrassment when everyone knows you're dreaming in color and his name is hidden somewhere in your singing.

A particular kind of sadness when you realize that there are all kinds of love, but you never have the same love twice.

 

Silenced.

I was sitting there in a train next to plenty of strangers, all of us doing the same thing; minding our own thoughts in silence.
I use to go to bed at night and my mind would scream at me with memories or wishes or dreams.
Anytime I was quietly thinking, my ears seemed to ache with the pain of noise from the insight out.
I could barely see anything past the questioning thoughts and yearning images.
Then that one moment while I was sitting on the train, just like that... nothing.
No flash of passion with Jon. No memory of that bang song. No naive camo couple.
Nothing.
For the first time something ached more than the scream of noice.
Silence.