So I Could Know The Moments I Was Eating Up Your Day

June 2014

I'm so tired of this pain, that i inflict upon myself,

just enough to make me sad but not enough to need some help,

i'm always writing in my book the words i wish to send to you,

asking anyon who's up there to show me guidance and what to do,


pushed my tear ducts to a draught cause i think about that look,

the one that i still see while writing, you speak an unreal fiction book,

but if you ever get too bored by all means send me hey,

so i could know the moments i was eating up your day,


here i write lines until they turn to words that just might

show you i still love the dreams that i have each night,

but i don't like the way i wake up, rub my eyes just to see,

that i am still too much heart to wake up this damn lonely,


so don't you ever say that you loved me, or even thought you did,

don't send your heys unless you mean it, otherwise keep feelings hid,

i can ask about your day and actually care how it went,

but do you ever type out how's your day then push it out like a dent?

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