fragile21

I have nothing new. I'm not sick, but it still lingers with me. And all this time I missed what could I see. A place from the sun. A path to dirt. What I've become. Is lost and buried in the hurt. I wish I could fly. These wings are torn. If only I could die. If only I was never born.

"it isnt always i am well
for sometimes i am ailing
and yet in steaming night i smile
to downplay this my failing
and make a noise to bury all
of your weeping and your wailing

and then in bed by little light
and closed off from it all
i must try and bring a conscious end to night
and hope that dreams begin to fall

the color of my dreams, they would be you...ruby
oh if i could close my eyes and bring you to me
push your head into
make you not you not you not you but me

and then in dreams i wander free
and see some things im meant to be
and sometimes even i see thee

and would the night go on and on
and not tomorrow end at dawn
and whatever mat i lay upon
dissolve

the color of my dreams, if i had dreams, they would be you...ruby
everything i do is done to bring you closer to me
when you sleep your breath it blows right on through me

the color of my dreams, if i had dreams, they would be you...ruby
the color of my dreams, they would be you...ruby

and illness be or wellness thrive
my dream proves i am yet alive"
-tweaker