I step in and there she was in all her beauty in the flesh waiting to be devoured I noticed a wink and I was off to sink another just another not a person but someone or something to add to the notch in my belt. Seen as too easy, so I try, but my attempts are in vain and to think that they always walk to me. Finally, she strolls over and I can tell what she was thinking and how the plan of hers was going down. One drink here to be followed by a night of ecstasy. A night full of passion and fearlessness perhaps just stupid-ness, yet I take no orders from any but myself. That night when all is said and done we slumber and when the rise of the sun is seen, left to my lonely humility, I lay alone in my bed of adultery and everything gone lost to the night I just had I knew she looked too familiar to me then I remembered I saw the devil encased in light, so bright and beautiful. I only caught him for a glimpse. He was zipping the body-bag of his last victim. That cold room of vacancy reminded me of my heart. Now is left, a hole, which is sucking up the precise light (I used to own). I thought I found my love again but really it was thrown away. My dear how I’ve changed from the innocent to the blamed. It can’t be all my fault though can it? With each passing night the sight of us together grew smaller and smaller until we seemed more as neighbors, occupying the same space. I was tolerating the weight on my finger yet as soon as I left I was seen as single. Leaving early staying late blaming it on hard work trying to feed my family. Now the only thing I feed is my wants or desires not thinking of any consequences or accepting my failure. I never said but it started after our first set of big fights. You remember I went out that night and on the drive to the closest bar I remembered I saw the devil encased in light, so bright and beautiful. I only caught him for a glimpse. He was zipping the body-bag of his last victim. How did you find out? I lived in secrecy jumping from shadow to shadow, like a cockroach. But alas my secret is out. It was said for death do us part, but I say death overtook us many moons ago. We would just drag the other corpse around to fake a perfect life we both desperately needed to feel alive. I’m sorry but it’s too late now and an apology would only fall on deaf ears. Eardrums now bleeding from the sharp lies they were told, piecing down to the heart. Hard to face the facts when the welcome mat is covering all the dirt for I am a different man when I enter my abode. My home is riddled with shameful empty conversations and quiet dinners alone. I know now I was always wrong and I’m sorry yet you’re too far gone to hear me scream. I feel a darkness coming over me. Shutting out the light and with the last set of metal latched I realize I saw the devil encased in light, so bright and beautiful. I only caught him for a glimpse. He was zipping the body-bag of his last victim.

I thought we were friends. I thought we got the other’s back. Always open swapping stories of our past. However much I thought we were friends, you still can’t be trusted. I thought we were friends. I thought we were friends. I thought we were friends. How was I wrong? I was so wrong. You express your troubles and I hold them in a sealed vacuum. Yet when I need your advice, the watery and juicy details leads you to tell them forth. I should have known it’s happened before, but I would not have guessed you would have dropped such a huge bomb on me and leave me in the decay of the atomic waste. I hold life dear and I thought you did too, but life is only important if it benefits you. If stabbing someone in the back will further your self-esteem, without second notice that blade slides in so eloquently. I thought we were friends. I thought we were friends. I thought we were friends. How was I wrong? I was so wrong. I thought we were friends. I thought we were friends. Why did I think we were friends. I just don’t know. I was so wrong. Is this a game? To go fish for someone? Catch them and then pull them out of the water to drown? I’m drowning in my emotions. Sadness, hate, disgust, disappointment, confusion. What have I done to you to deserve a complete and utter disregard to being treated like a friend? Friend, what a funny word that has transformed shape for me. First it meant brother, now enemy? Not so extreme because most enemies are vocal with their disagreements. But, you left me in the cold and won’t answer my calls, and I am sorry you have a jacked up life. Where you don’t know where to go or what to do. I always thought you were proud of what I have accomplished in my short time on this earth, but I guess appreciation hides jealousy well.

Cycle of oh’s as a point of remembering, just out of my mind’s reach. I grasp at loose associations hoping that my mind becomes clear, but nothing sticks. Patterns. I like patterns. Fourteen steps then a left everyday at 3:15, I reach my thinking space. I say thinking but really it’s like a song stuck in my head and all I can remember is the melody. A faint whisper of something that I once knew. It’s close enough to sound out, but no words can be formed. I know if I can only remember the first word, then the rest will sure to follow. And if I can give my mind relief from fried circuits, then I can be happy. However, happiness dwells in the soul but I can’t remember that. Was that the thing I am desperately trying to put to words, happiness? No flood of remembrance; no unhinging of the gates to release the pressure built up for so long. No that mustn’t be why my brain is on repeat. Patterns. I like patterns. Fourteen steps then a left everyday at 3:15, I reach my thinking space. I attempt to think of all the things I haven’t thought of, which is more difficult than it sounds. With each thought a flashbulb memories races across my mental space. Just long enough to recognize it but not to place its origin. As a result of my mind taking turns and detours without my approval, I give an Oh. As a way to prompt a stop on that thought because well I can almost place it. It creates a cycle of oh’s as a point of remembering, just out of my mind’s reach. Just brushing the fingertips to prove that it exists. All I really want is to hold it firm and give it a good handshake and say, “It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve been searching for you for so long now.” Unfortunately, I do not think that will ever take place. I feel lost in the vacuum of deep space. The stars are visible, but displaced. Somewhat distorted and faded. I have never felt so alone. When the people here talk to me, they act as if I cannot understand them. However, the reality is that they are so distracting. I simply ignore them. Everyday I concentrate on the cycle, like a washer machine. I Stare into my mind and watch the violent crashes of ideas and memories. This brainwash caused my thoughts to be jumbled upon a squeaky clean wall. Given I know this won’t help me remember, but that’s all I know to do. I can only get close enough to sense it; sense that it’s familiar like a friend, but the cycle consumes those feelings and then restarts again, and again, and again, and again. Patterns. I like patterns. Fourteen steps then a left at 3:15 everyday, I reach my thinking space. Such a quiet place, and I need that, so I can focus on the deafening volume in my head. I’ve grown accustomed to this way of life because to truly live one must be always searching. Always trying to improve, and that’s why I get so upset. There are no solutions to my problem, and only the answer to this riddle will end my heartache. I just want to be happy. Happiness dwells in the soul but I can’t remember that.

The story starts with a unique beginning with two strangers And time will eventually tell of what will come Love is considered to be strong Then hunny you and I are a wall We are building a home for all to come and dwell It started with paper roses It started with a glance It continues on with smiles and a few paper plants It's love you can see thus you know how I must feel Something that well I'm not use to I am not use to feeling this way It creates a burning inside of my heart This burning ignites a flame a brightly shone flame It started with paper roses It started with a glance It continues on with smiles and a few paper plants My darling the flowers I give are crafted by hand Secretly I want them to turn real and take root deep within your heart But unlike real roses mine contain no thorns Nothing to prick those perfect fingers no way of causing harm Those paper roses like my love will never die Only be forever be a representation of what love should look like Soft and lasting hard to make real It started with paper roses It started with a glance It continues on with smiles and a few paper plants It started with paper roses It started with a glance