My skin so desperate for a touch,
My eyes red and sore.
The blood in my veins moving like hot gasoline,
Her picture dangling on the door.
My heart sinking to oblivion, throbbing.
Her picture, the window, her picture, the window..
And the clock is ticking.
Shall I throw myself out of the window or would I be dumb?
Would it matter? Would it make a difference?
It's so tempting to jumb, and for long I have been numb.
Folds of numbness when all I have asked for is a feeling.
Is it too much to ask for?
Tides of anger and waves of torture.
Despair and agony multiplied by infinity.
Hope floats around but never settles.
It's like dancing on the clouds when you know you are going to fall.
Nothing matters when you can't be with the one you love?
What is hope when it vanishes before your own eyes?
Flowers are dead. Vases shattered to fragments.
Letters burning with deceiving words and poisoning love segments.
Her picture, the window, her picture, the window..
And the clock is ticking.
Plastic tears for a plastic suicide for plastic reasons as fake as love.
Oh, what the hell?
The window is my hope.
And it is time...
Even though outside I can hear the storm.
Feeling love in every inch.
The longing and the despair with her memory I would stitch.
Feeling love and some pain too, but that's okay.
You can't get the flowers without the hay.
So precious and so tender, love is a feeling
That weighs more than the world itself. It's a way of healing.
The sun will shine and the shadow will die one day.
The clouds will melt into rain, as they say.
And my hands would be in hers, no longer apart.
Even if the bodies are not close enough, the hearts would never depart.
The souls lie in the same guitar,
Playing a song called 'love, no matter how far'.
Devotion commitment affection.
Passion attachment protection.
Hope is not something that floats,
Nor does it have red feathers,
Rather, it is the decision to get out of bed in the morning,
And the thought that puts one to sleep at night.
So if I was to choose I would choose her.
I yearn to feel her body, cascade over mine.
I choose to survive.
And the window I would open,
So I would feel her cool air,
Because my shivering lets me know
I'm still alive.