Days pass. Friendships end. Pretense is a memory hated. A feeling loved. Living a Lie feels like a haven. But the broken memories are easier to rid when they are lies. No strings. No hearts shattered. No missing holes. But the truth. Friends are real. I can't lose them. They leave. I'm empty with no shoulders. Broken by time. Broken by life. No reason to paint. But every reason to hide. All I have is leaving. All I want has left. All I need is gone. Apathy can make pretenses. Lies soothe wounds. Only leaving a scab rather than a scar. But there's no way to fix this broken. There's no way to stop the pain. All I need is solace. Those who can give it are the ones giving me reason of grace. I'm tired. This is old.
 Made27 · Mon May 16, 2005 @ 04:50pm · 0 Comments |
