Sore.

you are my fear. my state of panic. and you make my heart soar. falling back on my spiral notebook with tattered corners to confess my love to you. i spent my time alone as a forigner to myself when my mind and heart were yours. but whats this? i see freedom from my personal wars! i was lost in your razzle and dazzle every time before but now as i look in from the unstained glass i see everything you have ever represented or stood for has been thrown to the wind and i'm left with the vision of a whore. not of the skin. but for what we see fit as fitting in a consumer of sin moreso than even i have ever been before a package for you my dear. its your soul, thats why i've come to your door. take the filth from your ear in that silence, there is a new life in store and let me just get one thing clear you are my fear. my state of panic. and you make my heart sore.