letters to the forgotten, holding on to what is gone. bound to say sound, something that you would rather not hear. eyes are closed, your hands are cold, my heart is still warm and i am at home, feeling like nothing again! pretending not to care, but i care! dont say another word or time was worthless, and i tried so hard.. we started over and over again, as we let go we held eachother, held hands, held standards and grudges. thats when i let you know, and thats when you let me go. i guess that goes to show exactly what i ment to you....many nights of hugging my pillow, replaying memmories, anticipationg your call, waiting for you to say. whereever you are i hope you feel, try and listen, try and think of what your missing. try looking into my eyes, and saying your goodbyes. you wont, because you cant. you were the smell b4 the rain, you were the blood in my veins, now youre a phone call away. but the line is cut short. you were the flower on my casket, the gravity underneath the noose that ties around my neck, you were the choice ive made, your the second hand smoke. your word is the word that always won. and the best part of what happened is the part of what i missed...and as my lungs gasp for air, your heart drowns them in a pool of blood, your death after life, your heart is harder then stone...and after saying goodbye, your memmories wont leave me alone. and my last question is to ask, why did you cast the first stone?