Looking back at you,
that wall inside your eyes.
A package I'm afraid to open.
For that would be crossing the line.
And yet I'm feeling so whole again before you
in the mystic aftermath and smoke of cigarettes.
I'd been released inside your arms,
something akin to reaching the soul through the body,
yet as close as the skin allowed us to become,
seems nothing there was ever quite enough for me.
Was it the wall that was there, or my
knowledge of what thrived just behind?
Was it that I felt contrary or feared to
expose how I felt complementary?
There's something blue there.
Not in the iris, but deep in the pupil.
And you seem to be seeing red there.
Our grandoise lies, amidst the truthful.
And then I pushed away from you,
and you pulled me back to limit the drifting.
Then you went and turned your back on me,
and with thrown-up arms and lack of spine,
I cursed the wind and just walked away.
Now you just want me erased.
I miss your voice, I miss your face.
I miss your touch, I miss your mind,
but you aim to cut the tie that binds.
Feel I've lost a part of me, but
you're no possession, you're not `mine.'
And I hunger for the mutual, but
if I were yours, would I ever be mine?
You said one and one become one,
but I don't want to just be just another
lost missing peice without you.
Independence is nessesary.
Without you is torture and misery.
I comfort myself: this is temporary.
I kill myself: why do I need the solitary?
that wall inside your eyes.
A package I'm afraid to open.
For that would be crossing the line.
And yet I'm feeling so whole again before you
in the mystic aftermath and smoke of cigarettes.
I'd been released inside your arms,
something akin to reaching the soul through the body,
yet as close as the skin allowed us to become,
seems nothing there was ever quite enough for me.
Was it the wall that was there, or my
knowledge of what thrived just behind?
Was it that I felt contrary or feared to
expose how I felt complementary?
There's something blue there.
Not in the iris, but deep in the pupil.
And you seem to be seeing red there.
Our grandoise lies, amidst the truthful.
And then I pushed away from you,
and you pulled me back to limit the drifting.
Then you went and turned your back on me,
and with thrown-up arms and lack of spine,
I cursed the wind and just walked away.
Now you just want me erased.
I miss your voice, I miss your face.
I miss your touch, I miss your mind,
but you aim to cut the tie that binds.
Feel I've lost a part of me, but
you're no possession, you're not `mine.'
And I hunger for the mutual, but
if I were yours, would I ever be mine?
You said one and one become one,
but I don't want to just be just another
lost missing peice without you.
Independence is nessesary.
Without you is torture and misery.
I comfort myself: this is temporary.
I kill myself: why do I need the solitary?
