I see your heart pulling away, or is it mine, it’s all the same.
The paint on a log, the multicolored rain. Or is this colorblind for me to find my way?
What was good for you, not ok for me too. Let this moment open a gateway to this half of a heart for me to break.
We are all habits to reclaim.
This hopeful scene plastered in a daydream, the truth, sordid and grey.
Sentiments of fallen ideals, less than real, manufactured in some false display- for you to reclaim.
All those concede, parts of you I didn’t want to see, not in line with my own faults
And the words we had shared, not past lives to bare- believe these moments as truth.
This mind is relentless, searching for heartache and sorrow well spent.
real people matter, feelings we all break.
Because birth to death is not easily explained
No more worry to project.