I never asked to be born. I never really asked to grow up in this so called world. I never understood the meaning of life nor did I understand what love was. I would try and scream out your name wondering if there truly were an answer to anything I had to asked.
Sometimes, I feel like the shattered glass upon the floor just isn't shattered because it's been broken; but, because there was a meaning behind it. There is a meaning, right? I'm not imagining the shattered glass, I'm not pretending it doesn't exist; but, I'm seeing it as it just happened. I'm seeing a couple screaming and fighting for their life together. I'm wondering, is there a life out there? A life beyond all the pain. I want to be able to pick up the piece, could I possibly glue them back together or do I have to start over from scratch?
I feel like I can sit here and scream! Scream out your name. Scream at the top of my lungs and no one will hear me, not even you..the one person I'd thought would hear me, doesn't even know I'm in the same room. Someone, just someone to look up from the world and see me with crystal like tears fading as they drop from my eyes, shivers that shrine throughout my body with pain and loss.
The creative mind can come up with over a million possibilities; but, I seem to be finding the same answer everytime. Why? Why seems to be always the one word you use a lot and it always seems to be the question we ask the most so Why is it that the answer is always YOU?
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