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Sunday, July 26, 2009

my eyes are screaming for the sight of you
and tonight i am dreaming of all the things that we've been through.
i miss you with a tangible ache.
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All the world's a stage
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances.
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.

- Shakespeare, As You Like It



how could you do it; i never saw it coming.
i need the ending, so why can't you stay just long enough to explain.

and don't you think it's ironic how sometimes,
the things we need to do for our loved ones
are the very things that draws up the barriers?
like how a parent might need to work so very often to feed the family,
but ends up being distant from the kid.
an ironic tragedy isn't it.
we do things that are needed of us,
yet all it reaps is distance and unfamiliarity.

and don't you think it's ridiculous when your heart doesn't correspond with your brain?
your mind tells you that it's gonna get better,
but your heart is tearing silently with the present pain.
you know you're not supposed to feel this way;
you should have gotten past this stage
so you've no idea why you keep coming back here.
when this is not where you wanna be.

i've convinced everyone else that you don't matter anymore,
now i just have to psycho myself too.





If music be the food of love,
play on.
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting.
The appetite may sicken, and so die.

- Shakespeare, The Twelfth Night





Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.
—
Anon