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Literature Text
I—I find myself afraid of my own thoughts
I know they see my mind
And I—I have secrets there
That I don't want you to find
'Cause maybe I'll speak my mind
If my thoughts decide to betray me
My secrets deep inside
Laid out—for all the world to see (And you're part of my world)
Today—tomorrow—yesterday—next week
Why am I so afraid of me?
Winter—spring—summer—fall
Why do I feel so small?
Remember—all the things I used to do (Know somethings just aren't true)
Why did I lie to you?
I—I find myself afraid of my own eyes
I know they see my mistakes
And I know they see the smiles I flashed you
How many weren't fake?
'Cause maybe I'll start seeing you
In a slightly different way
Then my thoughts and eyes
Might give it all away
Today—tomorrow—yesterday—next week
Why am I so afraid of me?
Winter—spring—summer—fall
Why do I feel so small?
Remember—all the things I used to do (Know somethings just aren't true)
Why did I lie to you?
Why am I so afraid?
What is it I don't want to say?
What is this sudden fear?
What don't I want you to hear?
But your eyes are telling me
You already know
Was it that easy to see?
You already know (How long have you known?)
Today—tomorrow—yesterday—next week
Why am I so afraid of me?
Winter—spring—summer—fall
Why do I feel so small?
Remember—all the things I used to do (Know somethings just aren't true)
Why did I lie to you?
Next week—yesterday—tomorrow—today
My eyes gave it all away
I know they see my mind
And I—I have secrets there
That I don't want you to find
'Cause maybe I'll speak my mind
If my thoughts decide to betray me
My secrets deep inside
Laid out—for all the world to see (And you're part of my world)
Today—tomorrow—yesterday—next week
Why am I so afraid of me?
Winter—spring—summer—fall
Why do I feel so small?
Remember—all the things I used to do (Know somethings just aren't true)
Why did I lie to you?
I—I find myself afraid of my own eyes
I know they see my mistakes
And I know they see the smiles I flashed you
How many weren't fake?
'Cause maybe I'll start seeing you
In a slightly different way
Then my thoughts and eyes
Might give it all away
Today—tomorrow—yesterday—next week
Why am I so afraid of me?
Winter—spring—summer—fall
Why do I feel so small?
Remember—all the things I used to do (Know somethings just aren't true)
Why did I lie to you?
Why am I so afraid?
What is it I don't want to say?
What is this sudden fear?
What don't I want you to hear?
But your eyes are telling me
You already know
Was it that easy to see?
You already know (How long have you known?)
Today—tomorrow—yesterday—next week
Why am I so afraid of me?
Winter—spring—summer—fall
Why do I feel so small?
Remember—all the things I used to do (Know somethings just aren't true)
Why did I lie to you?
Next week—yesterday—tomorrow—today
My eyes gave it all away
Literature
Eating up your Fears
I followed you yesterday. You stopped for coffee and at the bookstore. I slipped a dollar in your pocket to help with the tax. I smiled when you found it.
I followed you home and cut your power wires. Then I put candles and a lighter on your door step.
When you finally went to bed I let myself in the backdoor. I watched you sleeping in the dark and softly shhhed you when your dreams seem to turn dark.
I put a tracker on your car so I can find you. Youll never be alone, my dear. Im your biggest fan!
I put a CD of our songs in yo
Literature
I Am Afraid Of My Own Voice
You are an entire universe full of stars;
tiny droplets of light,
that integrate to become a part of me.
You inflate my heart,
it was made of paper but now
reminds me of odd-shaped balloons,
to sizes that can not be measured.
I've tried to count the reasons.
that I l-o-v-e you.
But come up short to a million every time.
I am always reminded of your love,
(As if I'd let myself forget.)
Your smile serves as my Polaris:
Ribbons are fastened about my tongue;
I am more than flabbergasted
because there's a part of you in every word.
Literature
broken hearts don't beat
sometimes, it's morning. and i've forgotten to brush my hair again. or how to tie my shoes or what my name sounds like. and that i don't believe in anything anymore. and that's when i realize that i'm losing little pieces of myself to you.
and the tip of my tongue is stained with the taste of stale paint from the renovating you've done with my mind. and for the next four hundred and seventy three and a half hours i'll be staring at the ceiling. since i'm waiting for your flavor to fade. or maybe i'm just waiting for you to come back to me. since my fingertips are losing their feeling. and the strands of my hairs are splitting. i'm aging in r
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I'll probably have to come back and edit this some...
© 2009 - 2024 Punk-Lime
Comments49
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its so very deep......[link]