Spiritual Suicide

Spiritual Suicide

The time we have speant together is one another's forgotten past.
Not a closing moment goes by, that I hadn't wished we would last.
The pain it brings me is too much to handle as I lay in bed and cry.
My mind setting you in another place, wondering if it was a lie.
We're too far apart, on opposite ends of the lake.
Who were once in the middle, holding tight, in each other's wake.
A dark cloud looms between us and I can't find the story I changed for you.
I have to write the ending and start the story anew.
There are no other stories to begin, my soul will not allow.
I put the pen to paper, but the ink will always run out.
I want a change of temperature, just to call your name.
Before I close my eyes at night, and wonder if you came.
I fight back my tears and find something to distract;
My mind to dismiss you from my thoughts, and only one way to react.
I seem to keep on telling myself, that everything will be ok.
But those are just the lies I feed, to get me through the day.
I drive away my worries, forcing myself not to look at your picture, at times;
The truth can be so blinding, as I'm forced to read between the lines.
It can be hard to listen to the music, with all the truth in song;
When the station can be easily changed, but my soul is already gone.
We only wanted what seemed unatainable,
Holding on tight and letting go.
The waves of emotions have already made me sick,
And now my stomach is aching turning into a bottomless pit.
The pit is filled with thoughts of you, I try to hide and forget.
My soul will dive to take the plunge, with no feelings of regret.
I can't seem to find the meaning, too young to understand.
At least that's what they told me, grabbing hold of my hand.
It's older than you think, my souls is tattered and worn.
Closing the book of this story, and I for it must mourn.
My soul will free fall, into hidden thoughts.
Only chasing the dreams of you, that I have long forgot.
Everytime I read this over, I keep adding another verse.
Because my soul is gone now, having taken another course.
I started this as a letter, only to spill my thoughts a bit.
But my soul would make it rhyme, whispering from the pit.