at some point, i'm going to spit on you.its amazing how everyone leaves at the same time. i start talking and they drift away with a look of concern on their faces. you would think i would be able to tell the real ones from the fake ones. i've yet to develop that sort of power. i think in the future, i'll just keep my mouth shut, and keep on listening. it seems people like me better when i'm listening, and not spouting off my intellectual philisophical psycho babble.
no one wants me to dissect their soul. but i could. if you would just give me a chance. it could be beautiful. i could seperate your parts, and make you understand.
but instead, i'm a breaker. a life taker. i wonder who will actually be able to stand the dissection process? and live to see when i learn to put them back together?
maybe he will be the one.
love has never been more tempting.
Take care.
only follow this link if you're interested - It's a poem
[link]
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If this is really what you think, then how come you won't look me in the eye...What do you mean I don't love you, I am standing here aren't I? [link]
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text=hi.bye.lie.fly.guy.tie.cry.sigh.lullabye.eye.me.oh.my
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