My heart.

My heart beats a million times. The hotel that is in it.
I let people in, then they check out with no reason.
My heart makes a sound you can listen to it, it's real loud.

Every wonder where your spirit goes when you sleep.
Maybe that is why you dream, and when you dream of me.
The ocean and the water.
Maybe my spirit was talking to my old friends for an hour.

I can hear the voices that disturbe me.
They make me stir and see.
Actuality.

My heart beats a never ending race.
Maybe I can give up the pace.

The finish line. You can't see it from here.
The starting line? I haven't left from here.
Everyone is ten miles ahead. While I am stuck.
Regret is all I feel. Tears are all I see.
My vision is a blur wating for someone to see.

My heart is fragile, my heart is glass, my heart turned cold
and is vacant at last. Maybe this will be good. The voces tell me it's bad.
When they take over, now they're all I have.