...THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...
all it takes is two people believing in each other sharing what they feel to make love real once upon a time I was living in love and when I take my heart outside, nobody seems to notice... maybe I don't wear it on my sleeve anymore... or maybe the disguise I wear is unattractive enough to keep me from being noticed... what is really the story (and who wants to know?)... am I controlling this seeminly aimless spiral to nowhere?... is there some meaning I am not expressing, some plan in which I am pretending to be unaware?... am I faking the foolish folly of langishing in lament so well that I am fooling myself?... how long?... once upon a time... my heart knew only one direction... unconditional faith in honest love... a one way ticket to the ideal relationship.. unconditional trust... sharing everything... two becoming one, remaining two, living in unison, symmetry, together... a beautiful dream became real through sharing... or so I thought...and you know what happened (even though I never told the whole story, most of the pieces are in here somewhere)... now, my heart is... somewhere... else... once upon a time I was so sure and secure, faith so strong I laughed at pain and dared to feel everything... I had it all, except a partner... fear had virtally no power over me... my heart and I shared unconditional trust, I loved on instinct, trusted my senses and the senses beyond the five... my eyes told me the truth... and then... loneliness, laziness, hunger to love, to share, to be loved... senses clouded and I accepted promises that were well intended and ignored the distant red flags my inner voice waved... I wanted to believe in someone else so much that I would go down with the ship if she chose to sink it... and when it she did, when all fell apart, I would not accept it... I dug in deeper... and sunk deeper... gave more... gave everything... you know, when someone says they gave everything, rarely do they mean everything... rarely do they means that if they lost all they gave, they'd lose their identity... it takes a lot of paper to create a successful career in this culture... ID, diplomas, certificates, all the proof of experience that allows one to start in middle or upper echelons of the working world... the clothes that make the man... the computers and fax machines and tools to create the connections at home that create the credibility and power to sell yourself... all the materials... and then, the spiritual, heart and soul and confidence in self-judgment... everything, inside and out... all the tools needed for a successful life in this culture, left myself with nothing if the crumbling trust did not come back together... and it didn't... and I lament and I whine and I cry wonder why so much despair so much feared so much love disappeared and my heart died... drowned in my own tears... I want to beliebe that it just went to sleep... laid down to die, but would not actally die... maybe that is what happened, but I wonder what the difference might be if some sort of resurrection or waking happened... somewhere inside me I may still believe, but I sit alone and linger in the death at the bottom of the sea where no one can find me... loyal to the end... afraid to start again... somewhere there's hope not washed away by the tears somewhere there's love not washed away by the years somewhere there's faith not washed away be fears somewhere there's you waiting |
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