Always Looking

I keep looking at pictures, looking for a sign of any lasting damage. It's all in my head, it's worth nothing instead. I decimate every pixel to the nth degree. I focus on her eyes to see if there's any betrayal within the spaces she leaves. The trail has gotten longer and I don't have the heart to walk back. I'll make a new direction for myself and leave it there. I sit here and study her. I've become invisible so that my traces cannot be seen. If I circle any nearer, the presence will be uncomfortable.

If I remember correctly, she's almost become like a waking dream for me. I have nothing to work against. And how I make my next move away is the one thing that will be on my mind as I treat everyone around me like a psychiatrist. It's not something I willingly want to do, it just frequently gets that way for me. I guess it all equates to the same thing for me. Give me Prozac or give me love - there's no difference between the two, they both leave you violent if everything goes wrong.

When I wake and when I sleep, the illusions become mere shades. The only thing anybody wants to do is whitewash everything so to keep up with appearances. Her pictures, so flawlessly professional for someone to be considered an amateur. I'd fall to my knees and offer her contracts that she would refuse to sign. Once in a black list, always in a black list. Wear me down. But she does it so thoughtfully and sincerely. All in her own interests but with a humane touch. Makes the pain go sweeter but destroys you nonetheless

Je ne comprends pas. Je ne te comprends pas. C'est d'accord. Mais je souhaite l'amour avec toi était possible. Avec tendresse, consideration et tous émotions je peux penser á. Mais ce n'est pas etre. Trop mal. Trop mal. Trop mal. Toujours gardez les pics de toi. T'es trés belle. T'es toujours trés belle.