I am not capable of love, for I am after something more fleeting: the magic of a moment…My life is devoted to collecting to these little seashells of joy, how can I hope to know the majestic greatness of the ocean called love?

I am not capable of love, for I am after something more fleeting: the magic of a moment…My life is devoted to collecting  these little seashells of joy, how can I hope to know the majestic beauty of the ocean called love?

Fear

Tomorrow,  when I am gone,

perhaps you will know…

what my words actually meant.

Or maybe they are to be twisted, mutilated,

turned back against me,

Just because they are not mine.

Tomorrow, when I am gone,

perhaps you will know what my love is

it is not kind, neither gentle

I am no angel, by dying I hope to be one.

Tomorrow , when I am gone,

I will show you my wounds

all my pains, my failures…

you can decide then, whether to love me or not.

By then I might be too far, thats what I fear..

I fear… I fear… I fear..

And therefore I cry.