A Dreamer and a Believer
Loving you is messing me up, never before have I been afraid of the unknown.
Not knowing how you'll feel about me the next day; whether your feelings will change or stay the same,
is killing me inside.
For how long will this last?
It's always the irony.
Non-saints loathing the proclaimed sinners, breeding condemnation.
And I'm widening the irony,
wondering why the already condemned are busy condemning.
They say for your action, be prepared for a counteraction.
Good and bad, either or both will come to pass.
But what if the action is not of my doing, should I still be a recipient of the aftermath?
Is the price to be paid lenient or is it as merciless as it could have been if I were the doer?
Heal? Yes, Heal.
I want to, I'm doing my very best.
I'm healing every day.
And each day I turn a new page.
Be careful. The only thing I'd tell her stans. She's a drug, intoxicating without a try. Not much to your surprise, she's very much aware. You can tell by the way she keeps gassing the fire. The fire that burns her so called loves right in the core of their hearts. They think they are alright. What option do they have.
Blinded by the fifteen seconds of fame. So much love she has for them. Or so they think.