If The Answer Isn't Me... Let Me Go

What do you feel and how much does it hurt? How does it hurt, please tell me if it makes your spirit fly or want to lie about the pain.
A halo floats out of sight above your head, and your eyes distract me from what I need to see. All of the lies, too many things to be said, and so many that I want to hear but cannot handle.
I know what I need but it's the same as what I know I will never have.

My hands are rough, my spirit is tough, but my heart is soft.
Please tell me that you won't let the warmth fade away, don't let me ache and laugh.

She whispers to me in my sleep, sweet nothings coaxing me into the dreamless sleep that I've grown to fear. I don't know how to tell myself to stop screaming, kicking, crying, wondering what presses on my shoulders.
She is the silent musician, my ears wrapped around her melancholy notes.. Something is askew in my fantasies, something pulling me back while I walk forward.

Give me an answer, show me the way, take my hand and let's run away. What do you want, who do you love? If the answer isn't me, let me go.. But don't stop holding my hand.

My hands, my spirit ravage through the sugar coating, while my heart sweats, screams, slowly goes cold amidst its mild mannered execution.