I was not here
You never saw me
We never spoke
You never told me in spring
That you don’t

I am alone
This never happened
I never did this
I can’t give
What I don’t own

I never will be there
Maybe you will
But I shall not
And I don’t care

I could see it in his eyes
His golden heart was in disguise
He was different from the rest
Lonesome and depressed

But I could make him smile!
And suddenly my heart was in denail
We fell in love, and we fell out of love
But oh boy, we fell

They say the first love is the sweetest
But Baby, the first cut is the deepest
His voice was broken
And his wounds were open

I had to say goodbye
For this, didn't just make me cry
He gave me a new perspective
Even though he was deceptive

This baggage wasn't his
For this boy, had so much more to give
The silence was deafening
Unbearable

I will help him carry his baggage
As he had carried mine
I'm not leaving this innocent boy
Not this time.

DENAIL IN SUCH A MAGNITUDE FORMS A BODY
A BODY OF WATER
AN OCEAN
A PRESSURE
SO CALM, YET IT HAS THE POWER TO CRUSH YOU ALIVE
A PRESSURE
SO REAL THAT IT CONSUMES YOUR MIND
ALL CONTRADICTIONS HAVE A DEEPER MEANING
THINK ABOUT IT
A GIRL THAT IS SCREAING AT YOU
WITH OUT EVEN SAYING A WORD
AN ODORLESS FIELD
THAT HAS THE STRONGEST SCENT
A BLINDNESS
THAT WITNESSES THE MOST VIVID COLORS
WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU DENY
REVERTING YOUR EYES FROM SANITY
WANTING SO BADLY TO BE IN A PERFECT WORLD
THAT YOU TRAP YOUR OWN SELF WITH IN THE IRRATINOALITY OF YOUR IMAGINATION
THE MORE KNOWLEDGE YOU GAIN THE MORE IGNORANT YOU BECOME
FOR KNOWLEDGE IS POWERLESS
WITHOUT THE ACEPTANCE OF TURTH
YOU TRY TO EXPERIENCE THE WARMTH OF JOY WITH A COLD HEART
EXPECTING TO GIVE LOVE IN RETURN FOR MONEY OR WORK
AND EVENTUALLY
YOU FIND YOUR BODY MOVING ON ITS OWN
IT MAKES A LEAP
LEAD ON BY DEPAIR
EXPOSING YOU TO THE CRUSHING SEA OF DENIAL.

Photographs, they sing as the mellow songbirds
They speak as puppets,
Telling me only what I wish to hear
And what do I desire?
There's still a cloud over me,
While my hopes jump high
It is her photograph I can only smile at.

Who knew my fate?
Gods? Angels? Science?
The Heart, a scoundrel of renown,
He laughs at me,
When I smile at her photograph!

There lies a sadness sweet as honey
It hurts but still I am not afraid of her denail.
For I have loved her and she will Iive on
And her beauty will stay alive for years!
What worth is a picture of stillness?
When the lover has words and music!
When he has her smile and shy nods,
And that's an approval enough....