Drip...Drop...

I hear the rain outside my window, the weather turns into my mood. I'm mostly misunderstood, looked up on as either weak or too strong for my own good. I don't have time to express myself to others who I don't know. I usually let them think what they want. Who else can I be? The real me? Never shown to strangers, that just the way it is. I have to be protected, that's just how I feel. Drip... drop... still waters run deep. Who else will know that? Other than me? Now I try to let go of all that misery. The one caused by the lover who remains untrue to me. Decieved by his looks and the memories. Stuck up in my head they don't belong there like my brain cells. Tryin to live somewhere I consider hell, but knowing deep inside that there will always be worser times than this. This is nothing compared to what might be in my future. Hopefully it will be all good, but who am I to chose it? Drip... Drop... still waters run deep. An uncanny definition of the dreamer yet realist L.A.C.