let me let me let me.

Am I still laying here,
I wouldn’t know,
The world has stopped spinning
The minute I felt you close

Let me be a little bit of a dreamer
a little bit

And fall

I know I wasn’t the first
But trust me I’ll be the last
if you want me like I want you
If you kiss me the way I would kiss you

Let me be in love.

Let me let me let me

Don’t wake up yet

Let me let me let me

Watch you

Let me let me let me

Imagine you mine

Let me let me let me

Think everything is fine

Let me find out what’s love

And let me let me let me fall.

do i want to know if you're doing okay?
I want you happy..but i don't really.

something's wrong with me

feel cold

Standing in the street and I see you

Run, don’t stop running

I’d rather sit in the winter cold all night

I’d rather wait until they turn on the city lights

Than to look away.

If there was insecurity living in my head then it’s far gone

I’ll never be as lonely as when you’re out of my sight

Tell me it’s okay for me to fight.

It first started with a touch telling a million stories

Are you still afraid of it.

Don’t let me be cold again,

I’m standing in the same street,

I’m waiting, staring straight ahead,

I know you’ll meet me if I can count to ten.

love is all you need

makes sense.

why do you have to make this so hard.
you make me want to desappear.
why do you make it so hard to breathe.

fall, fall, fall.

Today i sat on a bench for hours.

It was about 6 pm and the air was cold, not too cold, just enough for my skin to react. I looked at people around me and they were all walking so fast, everything was going so slow for me.
The sky was blue and the trees were turning orange. And it was as if i was just discovering the world for the first time. Nothing mattered, nothing controlled me, nothing owned me. I was just a girl sitting on a bench. Just a body. My mind was far gone. All i could experience was this feeling. It reminded me how i felt the last few nights before christmas, in France, when i was still a little girl. I remember walking in the streets, holding my father's hand, looking at people's faces while they were buying presents, and i knew something amazing was about to happen. I was fascinated. I remember the cold air on my face. I remember knowing things were going to be good, because everything felt right, right at that moment.

"She stood very still, because her first perception was not of sight, but of touch: the consciousness, not of a visual presence, but of a slap in the face...She knew that she could not move until her permitted her to...She knew it was the most beautiful face she would ever see, because it was the abstraction of strenght made visible. She felt a convulsion of anger, of protest, of resistance- and of pleasure. He stood looking up at her; it was not a glance, but an act of ownership... He looked up as if he expected her to be there, as if her knew she would be back. She saw the hint of a smile, more insulting than words. He sustained the insolence of looking straight at her, he would not move, he would not grant the concession of turning away- of acknowledging that he had no right too look at her in such manner. He had not merely taken that right, he was saying silently that she had given it to him.
'Why do you always stare at me?'
'For the same reason you've been staring at me.'"


-Ayn Rand