I think that I've given too much of myself, where less was wanted
Held back too much, when I could've been the best
Regretted too much, when guilt got me nowhere
And lost too much, left standing in fear.
Pain is an empty concept.
It is surreal, utterly unavoidable, and easily pushed under the surface.
Pleasure is empty as well –
Lust without passion, vice without virtue, and easily led astray.
Perhaps the most abstract of concepts is Love.
Giving of oneself so completely that one feels lost…
And being left, breathless…with NOTHING else to say.
