Talking To Myself

It'll be okay,
It'll be okay
It'll be okay
Until morning for through the night I can't sleep tight because everything is messed up and gory. In the end, I find my friend and they hold me until morning.


It'll be okay,
It'll be okay,
It'll be okay this morning.
They won't be in, they can't be in but then I hear a door that opens, in he walks and there I sit paralysed by every emotion.
I can't breath, I can't speak and it's all I can do not to hide away inside.
'I have control over you' he had said and in my state I believe him.
What? I say sire.
What will it be this day?
A back stabbing, inconsiderate laughter, a twist of the knife, a threaded suffice, something else that will make me broken again? Shall I call you a foe or shall I call you  master I do not know.
What say you sire?
What say you now?
You who will never know.

I always go back to them, I feel for them but not in the way as I did...too many burned bridges that will never fixed again. A part of me hopes  but most of me knows that it'll only be denying my feelings if I choose the burned ashes rather than waiting for another who can bring me life. After all you can't break something that is already broken, dimmed for all to see. It's a dangerous life to care; it's an even more dangerous life to care for me.