The reason I talk to myself is because I’m the only one whose answers I accept

It’s all going to be the same. The dark times, the low hours. Write a different story,make up different scenarios. Trust different people, love different shades. Hide, hope. Leave, stray. It’s all gonna be the same.

There’s that caution in the air. When to say what, where to what.What if she finds out,What if he found out. Don’t want him to know I’m happy, don’t want to tell her I am sad. Guard those emotions, write a hundred stories with the same basic idea and pain that the words start to seem fake and the emotions all monotonous and cliché.

Walk the same roads, eat the same food, make the same jokes, laugh the same laugh, walk the very walk and run the very track. Cry every birthday, anniversary, party, holiday. Make the same mistakes over and over again

Waiting for that tomorrow to make everything right.

Waiting for that Sun after the night

Tell me I talk vague

Hit me, I don’t see your face

Walk away in your cowardice, 

or stay in that mere shame.

You tell me I am not here

I live in a galaxy far away

I look around and see the world

And see your sigh hanging in the air

You tell me I am different and so strange

Look through my eyes, It’s all just the same