| *sighs and stares at his clasped hands* Sometimes I don't want to be me. As I lie on the black couch of my grand living room, the big cushion's warmth contrasts the cold of my arms. This air resonates with its bleak emptiness, and all of a sudden my skin hurts (again). I know that I've no cause to hold back my tears, because I know that there's noone to hear them around- but I still would rather curl up in a ball just to hold back the sobs and to hold back the sounds. To hold back the whimpering to hold back the yelps, to hold back the coveting to be someone else. If only I could free myself from this madness and pain,- if only I could be myself;- together again. If only I could glue back my frail broken heart to scape those feelings of loneliness when I'm alone in the dark. If only I could have someone who'd still pull me close, who would love me and cherish me and still kiss my lips.. If only I could have someone who would still hold my hand, rather than using me as a cheap one-night stand. But then I can't blame them for their walking away, because when it comes to me,... I feel the same. |