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I think I feel the most creative when I'm depressed,

Craving chaos to escape from my mind, obsessed

With the thought of you and how I was so blessed.

But now it's gone and my heart is dead, left and stressed.

I try to make up for the love that was so buried

Beneath thoughts of fantasies and getting married.

I would have spent my life with you, I would've carried

You to sea where we could swim away unworried.

I left you because you are what I need the most.

Memories of us together are like the demons and the ghosts

That come out from between the shadows, engrossed

In instilling within a disposition so morose.

I know to you my actions make no sense,

And within all of the calculating energies that I dispense

There's a true soft spot - one so dense...

Pushing away emotion, hides it behind the iron fence.

The pangs of pain and the hurt inside

Drags me to where I can no longer hide.

I thought impulsively, how it hurt my pride

When I asked for your forgiveness for the time when I lied...

The biggest fib of all was that I didn't love you,

I said "I'm sick of you" and "My love for you is untrue",

But I couldn't be with you and it hurt me immensely too.

I didn't foresee getting so attached to you.