The Residual Noise
I don't like to be alone with my thoughts, rather drown in the white noise. Regrets longing love and hatred in a single thread, what a tangled mess, some happiness. Despair agony betrayal misery that's the way things used to be, even though time has gone full speed, wish I could set myself free. What of those who were there for a moment and then lost, what of those who were there for you.
Reliving a memory that sweet haunting melody, a cry for help, help me almighty, my heart only you can see, empty. I don't even know what these tears are for, of a memory of agony? Nothing left but that, a memory... how can I let it go, It's not that I'm not greatful for what I have now, it's all I ever wanted, beautiful....
It's the past that haunts me, it's that untold story which kills me, it's like a shroud of darkness that covers everything that I ever held dear, everything that mattered to me, becomes untrustworthy, was it real or everything a deception? Was it all a waste? What do you do when you can't even trust your most cherished moments? Rage. Take a deep breath, exhale, ache.
It's like a weight on my heart, which is always there, every moment of happiness tinted, desecrated & I am sick of it.
Its funny when you know that it doesn't make a dent ... doesn't make a ripple but you still scream ...
Reliving a memory that sweet haunting melody, a cry for help, help me almighty, my heart only you can see, empty. I don't even know what these tears are for, of a memory of agony? Nothing left but that, a memory... how can I let it go, It's not that I'm not greatful for what I have now, it's all I ever wanted, beautiful....
It's the past that haunts me, it's that untold story which kills me, it's like a shroud of darkness that covers everything that I ever held dear, everything that mattered to me, becomes untrustworthy, was it real or everything a deception? Was it all a waste? What do you do when you can't even trust your most cherished moments? Rage. Take a deep breath, exhale, ache.
It's like a weight on my heart, which is always there, every moment of happiness tinted, desecrated & I am sick of it.
Its funny when you know that it doesn't make a dent ... doesn't make a ripple but you still scream ...
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