Would you call me a hyprocrite?
Call me a liar?
Would you curse out my name?
Would you damn me to fire?
Would you know what to say?
Or would you just walk away?
Ashamed of the side
I' ve tried to hide?

SALT:

Everytime I
look at you,
like salt added to a wound,
my pain starts anew.

A HUG:

I need his hands
to wrap around me.
Assure an comfort,
hugging tightly.

VACANCY:

Inside of my heart,
inside of me,
there is a vacancy.
One not filled easily.

Love is from God. Ignore it, and you will suffer as you cannot imagine.
~Tristan+Isolde

Listen to this--take it from someone who has had personal experience.

Have you ever danced?
Not like those singers today, looking like prostitutes.
And not like those weird people who just scream and jump up and down.
As in ballroom dancing?
Well, thats a little like life--you cant do it without a partner, can you?

The pain is like sticking cold blades, one into my heart, the other in my head.
I want you to love me, want to be yours, give you everything, be whatever you want. . .
and you could care less . . .

Love is being torn between
wanting to keep your fantasy alive
or going up to him
and asking him for the truth . . .

sometimes doubts are better to have
than the real, cold-hard truth,
but when it escapes
it hurts more.

If I didn't know I was in love with you,
I do now,
because I know what it feels like
when I'm lying to myself. . .