You love, love, love
When you know I can't love, love, love.
Some days, in the midst of the hazy blend of working endless hours, seeing friends through half shut eyes, and hoping and praying for easier days,
I find myself thinking of the way I've become,
How I have opened my heart to ending up alone, without anyone to hold my hand and save me from the hardships that life wants to give to me,
And I worry, I worry a lot about whether or not this is the best path and best decision to give myself.
Have I really allowed myself to believe I'm so terrible, so undeserving of someone's love, affection, and time,
That I'd rather subject myself to laying alone every night, hoping that rather than a long, prosperous life,
It ends soon, without anyone or anything being ripped apart from my departure from this world?
Am I really so incapable of love nowadays? How do I learn to open myself back up to it?
Or am I truly doing myself a favor in no longer allowing such fancies to flutter in my head and in my heart?
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Missa Defunctorum
praise the lost souls, it'll set yours free
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