The truth is....

The truth is
I miss you, to the point I cause wars in my mind with the facts that I'll never hold you again.
Those soft pink lips with the brown trim, the body of a goddess, and dark velvety skin.
Those eyes that everytime when they meet mines, I could see the very reason what it meant to find the rib of his side.

The truth is
I would've given you my last breathe,
Hoping that your eyes wouldn't cry for the life I couldn't selfishly take of myself. May you see the bigger picture as you sit there, writing songs, playing that piano you had every since you was 12 years old.

The truth is
I thought we would never end, and you wouldn't tell me "I got to find myself, I think we should see...",

The truth is
I lost myself, while trying to hold the last of what I did have together,

I lost the feel of an angels touch,
And that is the truth.