The familiar feelings.

Why do I love to get confused?

Stimulation and suffering.

Desire, ego, passion.

Mistaking pain for pleasure and pleasure for pain.

Inner dishonesty and hatred, as forgiveness appears as weakness.

My love lazily walks out of the room.

Laughed at, and exploited.

Where does such a life lead to? Where will it end?

It ends nowhere. There is no time for such a life.

There is no way to clean such a mess.

It is left is darkness, it dies in sadness.

You are unknown, and die forgotten.

You are a lie believed and carried.

The dreary dream, the tired joke.

We are entangled, we are drawn to each other.

The tender interplay. The infusion and expectation.

My heart in your hand. Your heart in my hand.

And I wait for you.

I wait for you to challenge me.

I wait for resistance.

I long to hear the words I lock away to be uttered by your lips.

I am late for my own party, and it seems like I have no intention of showing up.

How odd.

When I feel this way my first impulse is to analyze and take apart my every thought and feeling.

It leads me away, down a path you cannot follow.

I am scared to be there by myself. I tell you so, you come to comfort me.

I feel I am not strong enough. I am lost in the wind.

My hand is not held. My eyes are not shut.

I lose myself in your reflection.

I see myself through you and i am frightened.

It is a painful sight. I cannot bare to look at it, how can you?

I don’t understand. I feel ashamed.

Why do I choose to stay here?

Where am I?

What does it matter?