this is not sorrow, this is me.

it was bound to happen,
not everything gets better with age,
even with aging cheese,
you forget where you placed it.

we say we are completely honest when we aren't,
'cause we honestly do not want to hurt you.

would it be better to look through your eyes
but judge with my own mind?
maybe it would be better,
cause your words are like the present,
and like the present,
its alone without the past or future.

you pass me your smile,
and i guess its all too common for you,
but that's why i can't smile back,
when your common forgets the different,
and treats it as an equal,
that's when you pull out another brick.

i guess i'm just ignorant,
or maybe a fool in denial,
but i'm beginning to accept it,
that under the light of everything,
i would one day just
pack up, get up and go.
and the beautiful thing is that
when i do so,
i won't hurt that much anymore,
i'll just take with me my scars.
truth be told, the hurt is going already;
i guess the different is still treated equal, eh?

you don't see beauty without some sacrifices,
sometime you have to make sacrifices in advance,
and sometimes sacrifices reap no benefits, period;
then you wonder why it all doesn't happen to you,
maybe the sacrifices were just plain unnecessary.
well, i dare you to stop doing anything.
maybe when you stop pushing so hard,
you can feel them push back.

'soft words are pillows for hurts' :

well, if that was all it took;
we wouldn't need each other now, would we?
i can write sappy notes to myself,
thank you very much.

i'm not hiding my needs,
one of them involves having you find out what they are.

don't bother asking,
'cause i'm not telling,
if you feel a slight something tugging at you,
then you know where you stand.

you decide who is important to you,
at your deathbed,
the millions who see you with your mask on,
or that one person who took it off.

if i know it,
but don't see, hear or feel it,
does it still make it real?
i guess so.
i'm just seeing it through
a different set of eyes.

'let me rest'