I stop to think, but am unable to formulate a reason for the radical way life goes about. I want to shout, I need to show you, that I am here, for you, you are not alone. My hand will always be within reach, and will always be happily willing to help you through hardship. I myself, at times, need a hand; look out for me, love me, don't always spoil me. If I always get what I want, what will be left to hope for; what will be left to earn? I need my faith; it will not be lost, or washed away. They can say what they want, they can attempt to misguide me. But I am here, and I stand strong; I stand for something; something I cannot express, something I do not comprehend, something I do not know; but it exists, and is indeed locked and sealed in the depths on the gated prison I call my heart. Or is it you that calls it that? I am unable to formulate a name for such a complex part of me. The part of me that guides my decisions, the part of me that shows my frailties, my insecurities, my faults, my pains, my weaknesses, me desires, my hopes, my longing to seek love; to receive it, have it, understand it, define it, and reciprocate it. I am, in my simplest form, complex. I am what you have always wanted, but never needed; or maybe what you have always needed and never wanted. |