Breathe in, breathe out.
Express your world, but never shout.
He's standing there.
He hears it loud.
If he walks away.
Then he's struck out.
Embrace yourself.
And cry, and smile.
And bow your head, and blow it out.
He's standing there,
He knows by now.
I love him but he's just struck out.
He ignores my soul.
He sighs when I'm there.
He wants to be nice, but he knows he don't care.
He smiles sometimes, he likes to front.
I'd call him out, with words of blunt,
But if I do he'll never come, around,
But maybe that's not so wrong.
I love him but I know he won't.
He's never home, he hates it there.
The world is where he hides, he's scared.
He cuddles close to his feelings and when
He believes he's just a worthless man
He sulks insides his pain and dread,
and you'll never get him away from there.
He knows it but he loves the cold.
(Afraid the hawks will hunt his soul)
I wonder what really makes him shake,
The thought of care?
Or the comfort of pain?
He cares but in his mind it's "whatever".
In his heart he longs to find "forever".
And his soul, it aches to find warm weather.
He's been outside, and cold for so long.
But he will decline, if you bring him a home.
With fire, and cookies, and blankets, and light.
He's afraid to be soft, though he's putty inside.
I wonder what fathomed our worlds to collide.
I'm BAM! and I'm BOOM!
He's COUGH and he's SIGH.
But maybe the BOOM will break his behind.
I keep that thought in the front of my mind.
It brings me hope that my hearts not in vain,
That what I want for him, he wants just the same.
I care, and he cares, but the actions to blame.
When one heart's all go, and the others afraid.
So I
Pace myself,
Breathe in, breathe out.
Express my world, but never shout.
He's standing there,
He hears it loud.
If he walks away...
Then he's struck out.
-With the Thought of a Friend, Written by: Christina Riggs
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