People say my face is easy to read; illiteracy must be running rampant recently. Actions should speak louder than words, though my laughter may seem indecipherable. I'm not emo, just emotional. Today.
I couldn't begin to tell you why, but I can tell you how it feels. The mind is no place to dwell for the lonely at heart; a lot of people don't understand the pull of this vital "organ". Regardless of what you may think, its feel reigns supreme. "Lonely at heart" is no representation of loneliness itself, for that I am not. But there is a disconnect I feel between my self and my world...that is beyond my words.
Then it begins, the little things you've never noticed, like the way my right foot caresses my left when I'm moved beyond words (usually to tears) or the constant changing of things to hold my attention (or yours) or the writing...
And it all may have nothing to do with you. Maybe I'm just writing because I knew you'd read it.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
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