insightful perspective

I still wonder how you view yourself and if you will ever love yourself the way a homeless person would, giving up the only blanket they had for warmth.

Sometimes I wonder how long it would take for you to apologize for the things you said and done.

Sometimes I wonder why I think of even talking to you and excusing your behavior.

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be like you. To have a soul so cold or the wood that continues to burn. Never an in between. But the yearning for more or the feeling of losing it all.

And sometimes I think to myself what it would have been if we both weren't so fucked up in our time. Figured it all out already. But when does anybody figure it out?

I never felt so comfortable but almost too comfortable that it shot that one spark I ever had. And if only it were different. And if only I could have felt what you felt, and you felt what I felt.

I feel like I will never know and I feel like it will always be left alone.

I can't speed up, I cant catch up.

Caught up like a stick in the mud

Am I supposed to be 50 when I'm actually 20?

I'm slowing down I'm slowing down

Heart racing

Mind racing

Ambition is fading

Motivation is dragging

The world is spinning

I give you flowers.

I massage your body.

I cook you food.

I make you gifts.

I value your hobbies.

What is it that you do for me?

Am I an object of your lust?

A shadow for your loneliness?

Do you think of me the way I think of you when the earth changes colors and the flowers bloom?

Am I here to entertain you?

I want you to want me the way I pour my heart out to you

I cry and apologize to you even when I'm not wrong

Will you ever apologize for the way you left me crying all alone?

Where is your sense of empathy, compassion, understanding, selflessness?

And I sit here wondering why I died on the inside.

Cant strum the strings of my guitar.

Cant paint a lousy picture.

I live your life. Not mine.