your self inflicted hatred I can never understand
I can only assume that you needed to understand
what we had was unlike the quota..
but somehow you had to deal with the break down..
you stamped us with a label.. but yo your own pasts owner
not me, i remember things differently
not because i wasnt scorned, or because i pretend to not see
the pain i put you through..but my past is bout the journey of me
through us and through dealin with you, mami
am i liar?
are my memories false, are your memories real?
or is somewhere at the crossroads where the reality of our past has stayed concealed
are you still as kind to the deserving.. (or undeserving yet to be proven guilty)..
could that only be allowed by no longer hurting by acknowledging my presence
but im not a presence in your life.. or your situations..
but the fact that i exist, is enough to have you facing a fundamental question
is forever worth the wait, or is the past simply a lesson
that you cant forget, but cant live in..
it all cuts both ways, i know cause i searched for those days
back when the sky was blue, and my life didnt feel those greys
but you behaved as though your rags were universal
in the mind state of sexual poverties, a woman's burden
our paths both ran parralel until the point of collision
but you're the both the victor and the victim.. oh scorned woman