"I can't express the way I feel,
The way you make me weak to the toes.
It's like a loss tossed into the sea,
Breaking bonds left for a memory.

To wait is to embrace heaven's touch,
Walking away is jabbing needles into this cut."


It was an interesting night; booze by the roadside. Like the rhymes off "My Confessions", confused and tensed up. A struggle to hold down composure, a struggle yet to be matched. Alcohol seemed to prove it's point of holding the truth, snatching away the devil's trump card. Nothing was to be left unsaid, and yet what fell on ears was knowing lesser than whatever was known before.