HER

Sometimes I am her. Sometimes she is me. Sometimes I don't even know her. Sometimes I don't even recognize me, or her. Well, I guess it's the same. She was me, sometimes she wasn't. Sometimes I am just me, and is just her. But, sometimes we are just ghosts... Sometimes she is a broken spirit. A weak and broken spirit, waiting, hoping.

Sometime we get lost inside each other. Sometimes I just become another person. Sometimes we get high, and then we fall. Sometimes we are together but I feel alone. She cries and I just don't care. She screams inside of her own walls, because of the pain she suffers. To realise it. To take it out, forever.
The rain is touching my face, slightly, and it feels just like I think love feels, but I don't know how it really feels. That's what happens when you want to experiment something you know you'll never get. You create it. You just imagine it.
Who knows, right? We don't even know. We won't ever know. Getting away from the shadows, but we are still gray, black. Our scars are following us, and won't get away, they live because of the pain we have deep down.
Sound just like someone else, "there's no room for me, no in this world". I've seen your dreams die, so as your hope, so as your faith. So as you. If the light dies, we die as well. Shout it out.
I won't make you the happiest. I know that already because I already know I am not perfect, not for you. Not for me.

Maybe, maybe... Maybe if you cry it out your pain will fade. It'll go away. Sooner or later it will.