Brutus-My Military Man

I remember when I met you. I fell hard. 
I remember when I told you the truth. I remember you saying you felt the same. 
I remember when I was so nervous. Today I still am.

South Dakota football player. Scholarship. Lifeguard. Bartender. 
Army Ranger. Mine. Yours.

I remember when you told me you were being deployed to Germany. I didn't really know how to take it.
I talked to you there. You said that you liked it and that made me pleased. 
We sort of lost contact after that. 

Next thing I know, it's a few months later and I'm talking to you over yahoo messenger.
I was happy that we had 'reconnected'.
I never felt more alone.
I asked why the all of a sudden talking to me.
You said you had felt that I had forgotten you.
You said to me that you were glad that you were very grateful for my talking to you.
You said that made you felt warm and comfy and you never lost feelings for me.
I never felt more empty.
You say to me that just because you guard your emotions doesn't mean you don't have them.
You say that you just wanna break down, but you don't think I'm ready yet.

All this to find out that you're going to war again.
He's going to be shot at, to be exact.
I don't remember the name of the city, but you were gone for about a week.
I was (...)

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Help Me

When he completed me, that's when I realized I didn't want him as much as when I couldn't have him 
He would fill me up, and I would still feel as empty 
Is the glass half empty or half full
I would feel like a piece of meet; a slut that he chewed up and swallowed any time he wanted 

When I lost control of love, I felt useless and mistaken 
And I don't want to be 'the mistake' 
I want to be apart of something more; something more valuable, something more complete, something less empty just do I could be apart of the 'half full' concept 

But, I search and search and every empty soul enters my body, and I feel their pain
Except I am a robot, an introvert 
I want to please you, because really I'm afraid of the pain that you could cause me 
All the while,deep down, I truly want it
I just don't want to tell you
I don't want that insecurity to get the best of me; get the best of you 
It's called submissive 

When I love somebody, I love everybody 
I can't help it
It's my infection and I can't let go because I don't know how I got it 
I just know that it hurts, and that's something that I can't grasp 
In dieing and nobody knows what's wrong, because I'm not going to tell them

Why? Because I might be delusional  (...)

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