Thoughts.

Thoughts that drift and become memories: bad, good, forgotten and soonly remembered. In search of all the happiness I always find my heart in pain first. Let me go gently if you don't want me anymore. I would love that. Sitting in a room with 4 walls; the suffication becomes unbearable. Hot. A mess. Then starts the beginning of my own unstoppable frenzy. I stop. I look. Observe. And rethink. What hasn't killed me yet is over, and done. Nothing is worth this dramatic change. Keep it moving. Chin up kid. The phrases that repeat and repeat and repeat. Replay that same broken record of hope. What I never had, I now obtain; the words that were once unspoke, have now become over used. Numbers repeated. And something that was never to become ours. Letters being put into words to make a sentence to make things true; I can never see things the same? Your dreamland was my hell. Blinded by the source of what was never real to begin with. The inner-changeable boundries is where your feet belong; I now know where you seem to stand. Does this make any sense?

-Written in Notebook;