Matthew English (4/2/1995 / Kent; The Garden of England)
Behind Closed Eyes~
I feel sometimes this is one-sided,
like a short letter.
your short letter, to me.
I feel i try too hard to talk with you,
see you, touch you, hold you.
Only because i feel that this infatuation could be two sided.
Or is it in my head. In my heart.
Am i a fool? Yes i am.
Of course you don’t want me,
to talk with me laugh or hold me.
Maybe that’s our reality and i just need to wake up
from this dream. Open my eyes to loneliness
that just plagues me- has plagued me for my seventeen years of life.
When i close my eyes, to me i open them.
Open my mind.
But not all is open in my dreams for example;
my heart closes up, like a clenched fist.
To some that might sound cold. Does it?
Because to me it’s as warm as a dimly lit room.
My heart is closed to capture these feelings, capture you.
The dimly lit room is just a metaphor.. that’s a lie.
Its my vision behind closed eyes,
for thats where me lie,
hand to hand, body to body, tongue to tongue.
Whats the point of living or breathing?
When in my sleep, in death i can be with you,
together in my dreams
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