i want nothing more than to feel comfortable in my own skin.
i want to be looked at the way you look at her.
i want to feel confidence and beauty.
i’m stuck in this shell, and i’m dying to get out;
it’s a deceiving thing, love.
you give your heart so delicately to someone
and trust in them to keep it safe.
but the fact in the matter is, your heart is never really safe no matter who you give it to.
is your heart even safe within your own possession?
i suppose there is a sort of irony in love, love is supposed to be pure and eternal
but no matter how it is experienced love is always painful.
heartache is inevitable.
it’s just a shame that we don’t come prepared for such pain, we are only blinded by
cliche love stories that are constantly crammed down our throats.
and maybe i am wrong in this sense, maybe there is such thing as true love.
one that is pure and eternal. but seeing is believing and so far i have yet to see
such a sight.
maybe tonight i’ll call ya, after my blood turns into alcohol.