These Moments

could you stop-

that's just not...

are these just thoughts?

no... they're not.

they're words that I speak, that do not reach those that I seek to convey my speech too.

I'll go to sleep now, earlier then all the rest.

Because my solitude it the only place I can truly rest.

Endless possibilities forming in my head. but in each of them my body lies in red.

How is it possible that I can hear me speak,

but when I turn to you and open my mouth, I'm like a muted TV.

And yet I hear your complaints on an endless repeat.

Nothing that "really" matters, matters to me.

By what scale do we determine what truly is important?

Because to me it seems your wants are praised while mine are silently deported.

Shipped off to another land I can only reach inside my dreams,

but I'll never sleep long enough to graze them it seems.

I'm just a cart you can push around, a step stool you can use.

It doesn't matter if I walk away bloody or bruised.

at the end of the day as long as your satisfied and amused.

it doesn't matter what person's life you abuse.

so, I know that I'm small, I've accepted my defeat.

but you will not use my tears for your entertainment do you hear me?

These moments belong to me and only me. These moments, belong to me... and only me.