Hiding in my mind, hiding from what's real,
Take my hand and make me feel,
Feel alive, whole, like...I'm here,
I want be held close, near and dear,
But there's no rest for me now,
A softening of my heart I won't allow.
Because if I give in, give up, go down,
It will be me that is the clown.
You can laugh, and turn away,
I won't blame you, I must say,
Who wants to be around a disease?
Something that causes unrest and unease?
Surely, not you, not the perfection in my eyes,
Not the one I turn to, hide from in my lies.
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Aya-Death Angel
Mostly poetry, no real deep thought. Just a place for momentary bursts of creativity.
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