Bitter and confused, violent thoughts, delayed reactions.

Quivering relentlessly, refusing vigorously.

The fear you have left me to deal with, confuses my cravings.

does that night cross your mind? Can you smell the bitter stench.

Every hand that has touched mine, reminds me of your senile discoveries.

Every person I want to trust, is untrustworthy due to your succulent desires.

The thought that you impact my future happiness, drives me insane.

I want to trust and to love, to care and to give, but the bitter stench follows me.

The bitter stench creeps up, when I forget it was there.

Creeps up right behind me, and frolics through my hairs.

I have given you the power to destroy my desires.

It drives me insane, the fact that you are in control.

Makes me feel like a murderer, wanting to commit a martyr.

I'll try then give up, feeling my anger.

I am human, I am breathing, cutting off my circulation, will give me the desire.

Fright saves lives, but what is it exactly?

Adrenaline, thumping heart beats, acceleration of the pulse?

That is all physical, so what is that feeling inside of me?

What is holding me back, covering the trigger?

What is holding me back, covering the blade?

What is holding me back, from ending this pain?

I just listened to his voice, and my feelings are better.

But that feeling last a minute, until I remember.

He is covering the blade and the trigger, but it's a temporary feeling.

I'd want it to last forever, but nothing can withstand such a hectic environment.

I don't want him to find the scars, and ask questions, I can't answer his questions.

I can't talk of why I feel as I do. I can't discuss how skewed my happiness can be.

how crude the human being can be. How I can't see beyond what is in front of me.

I guess I'll take the hard way out, and live with what has been given to see, believe in a future that is not clear, or try to understand the feeling of fear. Live with the scars and abolish what's far. See the moment as it comes by, try to stay high, and learn to fly.

Still doesn't make sense, but what does? Sense is just the counteraction of confusion, confusions caused by undiscovered findings. Carried on by ignorance and kindness.

I have forgiven you, and talked to you since. But that one night lays buried in depth.

I justified your actions, so I could not feel hate. But now that hate prevailed into my fate.

I just couldn't help the tears that fell from my eyes. All those feelings I try to disguise.

I don't want to show him my pain, I don't want him to take any blame.

But the blade is shiny, and my wrists are smooth, if I don't take it now, I am sure to loose