To You My Darling

Strawberry fields and soy lattes, craziness and a whore family no longer deemed simply crazy but insane and addicted. Addicted to selfishness and fishnet stockings. They cover you enough to warm you up a little, but they aren't whole_ they aren't holy, but they're holey. You can still see everything despite the attempt to veil yourself, hide from reality but everyone can see the general shape. They aren't fooled by the shadows. I'm not fooled by the shadows even though I'm the fool behind the shadows, in the shadows. 

You worry and write while I dream and draw. I am not going to crush like that aluminum can that you hold in your fist while trying to forget your not-forgotten. I am and always will be who I am. You aren't who you are. Without me you crumble. Without you I am at my best. I am what I can be with you across the country and Atlantic. I am who I am despite becoming what I eat and who I indulge. You aren't like you swore you always would be. I am you and you are me but not anymore.

Songs are turned into lives and can become any story. I can't write songs or play them or create them but I can sing them, and i DO and i WILL. And despite what they mean they are for me and what is me. They fill me. That are my therapy. So are people... but at this point everyone is turning black, fading into the dark and I am left... standing alone to deal with me.