I don’t wanna be here 
Not in this state of mind 
When everything could crumble 
In the blink of an eye 
​Thoughts so deep down hidden 
Not even I can find 
The truth in all the rubble 
Of what was left behind 
So turn around and leave 
Just walk away 
Just go 
Enough of all your sweet soft words 
Don’t say things I don’t wanna know 
Too damaged to accept 
The honesty you speak 
Stop now before it goes too far 
Before I’m in too deep 
Pull away 
Don’t touch me 
Don’t make me think those thoughts 
Of taking you 
And having you 
And pleasing all your parts 

I don’t wanna be here 
Not while I want you too 
Don’t make me fall 
Don’t make me ache 
I cannot admit the truth 
I’m not ready for the words 
So scared of the fall 
I know that all the good you give 
Will make it just that hard 
To turn around and run away 
When all is said is done 
If you love me 
Don’t make me stay 
Don’t let me feel the one 
Keep your touch away from me 
It feels too good to bare 
I can’t take another heartbreak 
Yet I can’t break your stare 
This may all sound so strange to you 
You may not understand 
Just know I have my reasons for this 
I just can’t admit them 
To myself 

I don’t wanna be alone with you 
Not when it could be so easy 
To let it go and forget the pain 
That I carry around within me 
But the way you look at me 
Deep within my eyes 
Makes me want to take you 
On a tour inside 
Pleasure and pain 
Twisted and torn 
On the edge of reason 
Dying to let go 
To lose myself in your embrace 
Allow this feeling to take its place 
Get lightheaded 
Lose my heart 
Catch my breath 
Feel all the things 
That scare me to death 
Why can’t you just see 
I just cannot be alone with you 
’cause all I want 
Is right before me

Will is an author and artist and producer (it’s only one indie short film but it’s on IMDB.com so it totes counts!) and founder of fetchentertainment.com and pain in the ass. He rather opinionated and has no problem sharing his thoughts on a variety of topics from the freakshow that was Election 2016 (how tf did Trump freaking win!?) to the importance of matching that belt to those shoes. He adores penguins and has a maniacal plan to use an army of them to take over the world and crown himself Emperor of All That Is (though he’d be happy with the Winter Russian Palace in what he would rename Mine!-Mine!-Mine!) but until then enjoys hiding away in his apartment and writing all sorts of tales that would worry that cokehead Sigmund Freud (really, we should believe he snorted for science!?) and drawing pictures of his creations.

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