These things we can t live without,
These things we don t want,
They run in our veins,
Dragging out our lives,
Making it impossible to breathe,
They are always there,
Taunting me with visions of the past,
With indescribable yet undeniable pain,
Sometimes we block them,
But yet they keep coming, pushing through, We feel them pulling and tearing us apart,
We ask ourselves when will we be whole again,
And when will our emotions not rule us,
But I guess that s the price we pay for being alive.