There's More To The Story Than The End

I hope there's a burn in your heart to give you a sense what's really going on in others.
For the worst of my conceited comments I wish you the best and all that's around you.
Perhaps you'll grow into bigger shoes but I won't be there to fit them, you're capable now.
I never only wanted you to be happy, there's more to happiness than there is to living.
Break your heart on a stone and you'll know what a heart break really is; nothing short of emotional trauma.
I can't see it in your eyes but behind truth there will always be lies waiting to be unfolded.
Don't make me cross your mind again because my feet have left for highway 66.
I'm going to walk and keep walking away, its your job to say when and that's how far I will stay away.
Lets just hope this world isn't really round because I'm not going to go as far as the east is from the west.
My devotion is to let you think I'm dead because where the sky meets the sea, that's where I'll be.
When you find the way, don't come searching for me; look for someone closer one that's willing to take her or her next breath.
You'll pull through without any memories; all pictures and notes just burn them into ash, its more appropriate in that state.
After this all you are going to have no regrets, nor can I say I will have any either. It's beautiful.
These fragments won't ever turn into a sentence, I like to make things incomplete and vague.
Some may form into sentences, they may run on like the way I've dragged myself away from everyone else.
I'm only wishing for an agreement and nothing short of a miracle that I might find my own way of breathing.
I've rejected too much oxygen and being alone gets me more familiar with breathing regally.
I've made myself useless for a reason and I'm going to dust my foot prints so nobody accidentally comes and finds me.
I'm going to bury my heart into the earth and my caucus can wander on the surface; since that's all we're scratching.
This might not be goodbye, but this is no salutation; and as far as coming back I am not going to make that possible.
Throughout the journey around the world maybe you'll be in the same place as I, sharing the same oxygen I hate so dearly.
All this is, is a blessing for a curse, taking life in order to be alive, I guess the top of the food chain is really a special place.
I'm about as useful as a forest fire, its time to go where the ocean lays obnoxiously; maybe I can make this mistake into a miracle.
I want to be a work of art, the canvas that God created, is critiqued, ripped and torn thread by thread I'm pulled across all over the place.
I don't like being alone but sometimes even loneliness has its company; maybe the piano will rip apart my soul and give me a melody worth living for.
Silently, creating a sense remorse, each burden I carry is one more accomplishment under my belt. That's going to be left behind too.
Logic has been my best friend, but my brain has been my worst enemy, as those two collide my hand trembles with my last photograph.
Into this photograph was the last place I was happiest, maybe one photo is all I need to get into heaven, and this ticket I might just leave for you instead.
I have so much more to say, but this time has turned into threads and this last string is the string I'm pulling on.
I'll be anything your mind thinks I am, but I'll still be unique as every one else.