Their are flames in my eyes,
that are burning me alive.
As I swallow back tears,
that are like gasoline to the fire inside.
I sit and I wonder if someone will ever stop the pain,
than I remember they will choke on the flames.
And I know I'm to blame,
I have learned I am meant to live with the pain.
Smoke begins to cloud my vision,
I scream out,
but you can only hear it if you listen.
I burn knowing no one knows I'm a victim,
but I guess that was my decision.
I hate that I am only loved when you feel like it,
like I'm lovable but only when there is nothing better,
you miss me but you just miss having me as an option,
you wish I was there but only when nobody else is free.
I care too much.
Doesn't sound possible right?
It is,
It definitely is,
and you'd wonder how that would be a problem right?
I want to live,
I want to hear a million songs and dance in the rain,
I want to kiss and make love,
I want to see the world from every angle,
meet people that I will love and ones I won't,
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