The Falling Reflection

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Every word that has ever rolled off my tounge and out of my lips.

It's my heart that is slowly being digested to my stomach and having a bunch of inspirational words and it is in the process of being reconstructed.

My hand jumps over the white water with a single blue line that is called paper its is being double dutched, yet I look in the mirror I hear her and wonder is there two different types of me is she really out there somewhere?

Is she for me?

Love with it's best friend confusion while its just a four letter word, and the term of looks counts not from the inside of ones heart, but the looks that one carries along with a sense of fashion?

What happen to the passion. How is it that living in dark rather than being apart has a way of takingthe fall and it is used as an excuse for a reason why that we never had a new start?

It racks and runs through my mind full throttle with nothing but a running 90mph car of helpless emotion that can't even more often than not protect.

Can I take a breathe?

I am sorry that I am and feel like such a reck, but it is not my fault you did this to me.

To the perfection of this life that you stare at in talk to in the mirror I never knew that you can run one away. There goes the falling reflection.

Author's Note

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