Coward

I admit it i am a coward! 
I use reason as a shield.
I blame my heart, its grown tired
Its lost its moxie.
I am a coward,
I have learned to survive
Yet I have no idea of how to live.
I yearn for the future,
And long for the past.
To terrified to live today.
I am a coward, 
Admitting it is the first step.

Random Thoughts Of Funny Minds.

It's funny how details that seem small can mean more to us than we could ever fully explain. Like meeting some one and not really noticing how important that person might become in you life. How small 2hr conversations become pillars of friendship, how writing to some one everyday becomes routine, a routine you live for. How everything in your day seems to bring you back to that one person. Funny how something so simple as writing can make you notice even small details. Even things that seemed so silly are now turned in to great anecdotes But why is it a constant human flaw that we never really appreciate what we have until its gone? Or maybe we did appreciate it, in fact we grew to love it, but maybe it was the love that blinded us and we just never thought it would end But its funny how everything ends. It's funny, you never know which words will be the lasts, his? yours? The memory of those words will probably torture you day and night, twilight to dawn. They never are the words you want to say the most. They are trivial words, meaningless words, words we tend to regret. It's funny how regret can consume us. Maybe its not regret maybe its just surprise ...Shock not knowing what you did or what you said to make things end. And so begins the unhuminizing self evaluation of all our words. It's funny how you know you are willing to do whatever it takes to get those things back, yet there is nothing you can do. Words can't be taken back, can't be unheard or unread. its like the ink has melted through your eyes in to your brain. It's funny how letting go is easier said than done. It's even funnier how much silence hurts, and why should silence hurt? isn't it just the absence of noise? yet I find noise more tolerable than the infinite questions silence arouses. But is it still funny how after months I still miss Him? How silly is it that subconsciously I still find myself viewing situations as how he would see them?

Yeah its funny, in a melancholic kind of way: Freaking Hilarious


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