I pretend that it doesn't....

But it hurts!

That you don't see me as I see you...

It hurts to say goodbye

when I don't want to.

It hurts to ressuscitate

only to want to die again...

So I ask why...

Why only an efemeral glimps of what could be

And the eternal reality of what couldn't.

(I have got to start to read the stars right, and quit wasting my pressious time with false sattelites)