in hiding...

wanting to live yet there's nothing to do... as time spent is attachments cut loose... memories not needing to get that close... so it's back to the nothingness of alone... jus craving that one person to create memories with... to live n be felt as if self matters... in the middle of life until the end of being missed... simply happy enough to be flattered... as the silence allows thoughts to be heard... with walls so bored of having nothing to watch... thinking about how what's slipping away is life... yet relations by all means of being picky is dodged... leaving self in pieces already gathered... in a sense of what the fuck... as it's the mind that's being battered... beaten beyond reason due to ashes in solitude will become dust... afraid to connect with all the wrong ones... no one is ever right... n it goes on behind doors closed off from emotion that needs to adjust... to believe in a memorable night... holding on to more than the pillows that's had enough... somehow it hasta stop... but how when the seclusion defeats the chance.?. seems all the good ones are jus as scared of being robbed... used for a lil while before truths admit it was an empty romance... blinded eyes in the dark cannot see... fearing someone who ain't with it to cling to the rush.... so it's back to the dreams... n accepting the thrills of lusts...