It's that choice again. The choice between being a part of all of it and letting things be. I know that nothing will ever come out of what I'm doing. I'll go, crave for you, look at you, silently wish that we were alone, wish that you were mine. I won't get any of it, so what's the point? I can't carry on this way and I need to stop. Please show me a path, give me some reason to carry on, it's been so long.

I dream about being with you, in your arms. Why am I supposed to suffer this way? Don't make me go through this. I sit, waiting for you to give me a sign, for you to look at me just once.

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