Survival Means On Your Own.

Don't even bother to worry about me,
I shouldn't affect your life anymore.
The hugs I thought would last eternity,
well, they ended, and there'll be no more.

That teenage romance that I thought would last,
well, it ended, and I'm left dangling from the sky.
Countless stars hold me; wishes of the past,
Possibilities that became impossible to only I.

I twirl in circles to blur your charming face,
so the image will become tainted and dizzy.
Don't tell me anything; don't leave a trace,
I don't think I could take you holding onto me.

Dumbfounded and just plain dumb,
I sit and twirl my thumbs around each other.
Secretly, I miss your warm hand holding my one,
and I'm afraid I might miss it forever.

The passionate kisses that brought dangling spit,
locked lips that brought me to my knees.
Well, they ended, and I pray that I can take it,
I can't help but coat my mind in a shade of memories.

Maybe I am still thinking about you,
and maybe I do doubt you'll leave my essence alone.
But don't worry; I won't put you through,
the thought of me living in pain all on my own.

These eyes still play a slide show of your face,
and these lips still mimic a rhythm so divine.
But never fear, my dear, I will not be in the same place,
that I'd always stand; I won't be there this time.

I mean, I would, if I could, because I swear...
that you are everything, everything I -need-.
And if only I could show you that I need you there,
then my entire essence could be freed,
from your invisible grasp, that I wish was real;
from your lack of touch, which I wish I could feel;
from your lack of kisses and hugs, which I need to heal;
but then again, what's survival if you're not on your own?

Sarah Gammon ©
09/29/05

Thanks for reading -xxx-.