Why should I talk and waste my breath in the form of an opinion?

We all know reality is a nightmare chased down by dreams.

"Why do you just sit there and watch your life fall apart around you?

I can see you haven’t slept in days from the tears in your eyes."


"Why must you hold on when they’re long gone?

You’re so much stronger than you’re showing yourself right now."

Again I ask, why should I talk,

wasting my voice in the form of an opinion?


Not a question to you, my dearest, but one to myself.

Talking only leads to thinking these thoughts running through my mind.

Thoughts that only the darkest part of me dares to hear.

I see your dreams fading away slowly like the smile that once lit up your face and complimented your figure.


Depression is an ugly color but you wear it so well.

I ask, no, beg you this last request.

Let your voice sing and those thoughts escape from the darkness.

I’ll catch them with my own demons and together,

my love, we shall watch them dance in the night as the moon and stars come to greet us.


Together they will dance until the last breath we breathe

leaves our weak lungs and death greets us with open arms.

Why hide your demons, when mine would be pleased to meet them?

Even simply in the form of an opinion,

your voice won’t be so lonely as to only reach the trees.

Let them rejoice as the waves reach my ears.

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jackabite's picture

another great one :)

It truly opens a window into your soul; I absolutely love it :)