Many people wonder why I can’t shed any tears.
I have cried for so long that my water has run dry.
I tried for years to hold back, but that simply would not work.
Every time there is a new dagger that goes to my heart.
It always come from the person that made it grow.
Now that person has slowly turn into a system that you can never say no to.
Instead, you hold it all in and run away.
You go and try to grow, but everyday they cut you down, until there is nothing more to say.
There is nothing more to do.
The pain is so strong that you never know how it let them go.
The question lies do you want them to.
Trying to see the light, but it is too bright.
Trying to find the hope, but I just do not care.
Looking for love that others seem to share.
Not thinking about the present worrying about things that I did not do.
My tears are real, but to you they just do not hit the mark.
Why do I live in this much pain?
Why is it hard for me escape the things?
This is not what I want, but it is feeling like something that I deserve.
I have never been an angel, but the devil never met me.
I just want to go.
Go to a place that most would call home.
Maybe then I will get some rest and finally be at peace.
I am lost.
I do not know where I belong.
This is not the way I want to go.
This is not the place that needs me.
This road I have been is just so lonely.
I tried to make the right turn, but I always end up going left.
This journey that I am on will not make me last.
The time of my rising is leading to the decline for my fall.
My story is one that will not be miss.
If you look now, you will notice anything that is not me.
You will notice the love that you have for everything that is not me.
I am not scared.
I do not shed tears.
I just walk this path of the lonely road, in hopes of finding a home.
Today I did something that do not like to do.
I thought of you.
By doing it let me know that you are gone.
There is no one to tell my stories to.
No one there to wipe my tears as they fall from the river behind my eyes.
My talks will now go unanswered
There will be no new memories to be made.
All the ones that I have will soon fade.
No new stories to tell.
This is a chapter in the book that I must keep writing.
The words just do not flow as they used to.
Now I just talk to the wind in hopes that you are listening.