Something from my end-of-the-year nostalgia

And with my change of attitude,
would you be drawn nearer,
or thrust further into this abyss,
I call my lonelyness?
I hardly think things would change.
You'd keep on chasing others.

I'm not one for settling down.
I'm one for quiet time
for loud time, for any kind of time,
granted that it's well spent with you.
Granted that you enjoy it too.
But I can hardly see your face,
from behind the crowd you surround yourself with.

Before I became myself,
before I knew anything,
I hardly think you would've seen me at all.
But has it changed now that you do,
when you merely look, and avert your gaze?
Or ask a silent taste, then decide to keep chasing?

Your faces are plentyful,
and so are the words that spill from each mouth.
Sweet, melodious, soothing to hear.
I'd love to give in and trust,
and maybe I already have,
but how can I, when everything we do is lost?
Apart from distant memories that remain,
or was it supposed to be this way?
I'd gladly give you freedom
give you what you already have.
I only ask that you give me back what's mine.

But your kindness is where you are cruel.
Return me my coldheartedness,
return me my freedom,
you'd only relieve me of the pain I love.
By giving to you, I keep giving to me,
and doubt this ache will ever leave..

Unlike you.

Your faces are plentyful,
charming smiles, each better than the last.
Honey, I'd wish to stay,
but I'm familiar with this game you play.
I'm weak to your tricks,
as you are not to mine, so it seems.

Your faces are plentyful,
and I've loved a few of which I've seen.
You want me to go, that I see,
but you should know, I'll never be free.
I'm weak to your tricks,
as you are but to others', so it seems.
So it seems..

So I will let you sleep,
where you let me in and forgot to leave.
Will you come looking when you wake,
I can't know for sure,
but hope is all I can offer to you.
Your faces are so plentyful..