Do we think it hard to imagine that stranger we get mad at, who speeds past us down the road and cuts us off, may be on the way to the hospital because he or she got a call while at work that his or her only child had been in an life-threatening accident? Maybe not. But Maybe so. We do think it easier to get pissed of and curse them, though, because they inconvenienced us on purpose, we think, and we all know that the world revolves around us.
I meant it not this way but the tears just flow and my makeup smearing all the more, leaving behind that familiar filthy residue. I may have begun to drive myself away, dragging you down as well. But it's done, I've flipped the switch and now it's dark once more. How painful is the music to my ears, I can't stand to be alone in it, yet here I am again. I pray you fly back and safely and warmly to me, though I fear I've dug the grave too deeply. As the dirt shifts within my soul, I choke on those loving words I'd meant for you. All the fragments of light I see becoming smaller and I wish to be near you in your embrace that might make me feel the warmth I'm missing. And in reality, I doubt I'd breathe another breath without you. So come hither and quickly soothe my dying heart, you are the only cure I know. I cry and cry again, come hither to heal and love me. Come hither and help me dry my tears.
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