the magic's in the makeup...

i can't believe i had the courage to say some of the things that i did to you. of course, i edited it, stopped myself before i used the words that may have truly change the way we are.

but who am i to judge? for everytime he lies to himself, pushes a feeling, a notion away, i know there is a piece of myself that i hide, that i coverup. at least he has the courage to write about it. or rather, has found the ability to release it in some way. i don't know how. i am too afraid that i will be seen, judged.

too young, they say. and too old, i call him. if we met in the middle, we might act our age.

confessions

i worry about you. i worry because you sell yourself short. you already act as if you have seen all that the world has had to offer and know that there is nothing out there for you. you act like you are trapped, and like the only way you can revive yourself is through the eyes of another.

i worry about you because you alre like me; you easily fall under the spell of words, and those who can twist them. you don't realize that you can spellbind yourself and that maybe you are doing the same that others do to you.

i worry because you fall hard. i worry because no matter how many characters i type, how many letters i commit to paper, how many words that travel through the phone lines, i can't help but feel like i'll never really be there for you.

i worry because we are so alike, yet so different. i worry because i am also afraid. i worry becuause this is the first time i admitted i felt this way.

i worry.