To love is to feel; a conscious choice to keep going back.
It was panic at not finding you, its fatal relief when found.
Simple in its complexity: It cost me everything I would have ever been.
I keep coming back, for the intensity you bring
For the dependence I’ve gained.Always enough to keep me floating amongst the clouds
(So high, I never felt myself breaking as I hit the ground)
You are the water that fills my lungs, and know its suffocating presence.
To love is to pray for the air I gasp for but never find.
You are always enough to tether me to the edge. Never more, never less
Always careful to withhold the thing I need most
So I take what I can, what you’re willing to give.
And pray for the day it will be enough.
How can you love something with this much hate?
Built ourselves upon the white lies we told until they went black.
Louder and louder they grow in the silence
You’ve long since taken my voice to object,
So I take enough to keep the high, never to overdose.
(But God I just wish I would…wish I could)
And that’s when it starts again.
And we fall into a false innocence, a temporary reverie.
(You can’t save me from my demons)
I stare at the reflection, talking to a God that no longer speaks back.
Who says love is worth our sins?
How can I show them what damaged is and isn’t
But you can’t erase what’s embedded in your soul.
To love is a feeling,
To feel everything and nothing all at once
Love is choice (and the only one I ever made was choosing you)
They say love is a choice or a feeling; who’s to say what it is?
To me, it’s addiction,
Escalating into mind numbing, sensational ecstasy.
So when you leave, I’m left with what you didn’t give.
Talking to the devil whose sins match my own
I find comfort in him and together we search for our missing angel
You were once my compass (A façade I used to hide)
Now abandoned, my head can only take so much, my heart completely destroyed
I feel everything all at once.
Drowning in the emotional tide.
You’d given me just enough.(Never more, never less).
I never realized I’d long since overdosed.
(But they could never know you like I do, my requiem)
*Picture does not belong to me.