Why's it so hard to believe in
something beyond yourself?
I guess sometimes the lens that we're looking through just blurs our sight. But then sometimes it makes things clearer. Sometimes it's darker than the night. It's a lens. We can try to see through it or wallow in our blindness. Wow. Crap shoot. Die or be buried. Live or fly. Sometimes it's just the lens we're looking through, huh?
Sometimes it's the people we're looking with.
Where is love in the darkest night?
I thought the magnet of my giving
would bring me something
to believe in
How can love be wrong?
How can my heart keep on breaking
in the madness, in the making
of this thing I thought was love?
Why can't life be as simple as a dictionary?
Why can't the force of love be as
alive as the coming of the waves or the
calling of the grave...
to slay that which hides our face from love?
Show me. Please.
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