could i forget what it felt like to hold you and could i put away these fears like fotos in boxs sitting in my attic. Upstairs is a place of black and green and faded dreams. It was always you who drowned out the sounds of this world around me, it was always you who made everything vivid and blurred. can you see the reasons written between the lines of this letter or will you burnit all away to forget. Smoke signals that go unnoticed in these dark skies and i was never to blame for any of this, but who's fault was it to begin with? The taste of dying lonely. (don't leave me all alone) i walked these quiet streets in snowfalls before i even knew the sound of your voice. I walked past your house and knew you were inside and under the table beneath a stairway where hopes come true a million times with each shooting star. I was outside and you were someplace special so it seems but you were walking.

Its not about smiles or waves, or the way her face curves of the color of my eyes. Beauty is... in these words and the sounds you never could recreate and so you spill them in sonic cascades over cataracts and waterfalls in an echo forever in your head. Beauty is all the things we can't touch or feel but love anyway...

i'll never be beautiful

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