PureInnocence
06-09-2004, 07:45 PM
Fears
Wanting to tempt fate to brighten destroyed dreams. My reality is broken. With you I had faith and sureness, but I see my truth being taunted. I want to believe, but I can't tell. Your heart is a mystery now. Is a tear filled woman a lustful statue in your day to day lingerings of attention? Is that all? A moment, so un-special as to bring no further thought into your life but the satisfaction of a basic need? Am I a harlot? My faith withers with my naivety. I mistrust so badly for fear of losing something I wish so hard to have. Ironic. That I throw away a heart I long for, for fear of losing it. But at the same time your proof collapses with the 'unintentional' misplacement of respect. My belief in your undying love for me is tainted. Your actions are speaking with the thunder of a storm, your words slight whispers on the wind. How do you measure my worth? So my heart turns its back to you but looks over its shoulder, wanting, wishing, hoping. Is it possible to obtain a fantasy that time has proven a lack of existence? When. When is the inexorable question that chafes my soul into giving up, adamant on taking me down. Lost faith is imminent. I miss you, but I fear selfishness gnaws at the purity of it. Hold me, I’m lost, I’ve never felt so alone in my fears.
Wanting to tempt fate to brighten destroyed dreams. My reality is broken. With you I had faith and sureness, but I see my truth being taunted. I want to believe, but I can't tell. Your heart is a mystery now. Is a tear filled woman a lustful statue in your day to day lingerings of attention? Is that all? A moment, so un-special as to bring no further thought into your life but the satisfaction of a basic need? Am I a harlot? My faith withers with my naivety. I mistrust so badly for fear of losing something I wish so hard to have. Ironic. That I throw away a heart I long for, for fear of losing it. But at the same time your proof collapses with the 'unintentional' misplacement of respect. My belief in your undying love for me is tainted. Your actions are speaking with the thunder of a storm, your words slight whispers on the wind. How do you measure my worth? So my heart turns its back to you but looks over its shoulder, wanting, wishing, hoping. Is it possible to obtain a fantasy that time has proven a lack of existence? When. When is the inexorable question that chafes my soul into giving up, adamant on taking me down. Lost faith is imminent. I miss you, but I fear selfishness gnaws at the purity of it. Hold me, I’m lost, I’ve never felt so alone in my fears.