Bottled up


I'm sick and tired of all these games,

I'm sick of chasing,

Sick of complaining.

For once I'd like to be able to speak,

And not be afraid of what you might think,

But this illusion,

This desire,

This false hope, if you will,

Seems to be unattainable.

It seems that forever I'll walk this chasm of uncertainty,

Feelings: an unopened Champaign bottle,

Ready to burst,

Ready to breath,

Ready to be taken in.

So here I stand in front of you,

I know what to say,

"I love you, I need you, tell me you'll stay."

And maybe in some other reality it will turn out that way,

But here I stand ready to speak,

And all that will echo within me

Reaps my soul to the deepest depths,

"Hi. How are you? How was your date?

Did he buy dinner? What would you rate?"

But the truth erodes me,

Slowly away, a slippery slope without any array.

That very same thing echoes this day,

So please be patient.

Although it's delayed, I now speak the truth

I hope you'll recieve it while we're still in our youth.


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