"ya está";

it's already gone. it's scary how i try to keep things close and how i can't. it all slips away and i can't help but care too much. every loss feels as a part of me being torn apart. i wished i could sing your songs but even if everything fades away, i don't. and the constant seach for something to fill the void feels like a waste-
i waste my time wanting and wishing i didn't need it. it's gone. it's locked somewhere inside me but the view changes every second, "the usual change of perspective"; and i really wished i could write and sing your songs but i can't ever let go.

and i wished it was something else. but it's only tension. i break the walls and build them up again. break my walls of fear. build them up with ice. then hell is here again.