A message to the brokenYou drown yourselfin liquid sorrows,letting the salty messburn your wounds,and the sadnessto drip in your mouth,consuming your wordsand you sayyou deserve the pain,but I want to dry your face,and whisper in your earhow the clouds cry too,while they hold such beauty,and so do you.
Cement HeartI built a wallaround my heart,and sworeI'd never let you inbut the more time thatI spend with you,allows the beatsto crackthe cement.
Melancholy thoughtsI tastethe sweetnessin your words,only to wonderhow many othershave tastedthem too.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stopspewing pretty metaphors at me,for with each elaborate comparison,I feel a bit moredetached from this worldAnd maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,but would you beif you felt like the entire universewas resting upon your shoulders,and someone was just there saying:But you’re stronger than the powerful beatsof a butterfly’s wingsAnd maybe I do need more confidence,but would you exuberate itwhen the part you hated most about yourselfwere the freckles that have speckled your face for years,and someone was just there muttering:They’re not flaws,but rather stars that form constellationsYes, I can’t help but hateall those unrealistic metaphorsyou choose to pelt at me when I’m low,yet the irony is,I know that those beautiful wordsare realistic in your eyes,So I can’t hate you.
Candle WaxYou meltmy heartlike candle wax,but I'm afraidover timeI'll getburnt.
IntrovertEveryone's tryingto get out ofthe shadowof their parents-I'm here tryingto get out ofthe shadowof myself.
GoodbyeI want to mutter a million things,but they’re catching in my throatAnd my heart is heavy in my chest,with a weight that holds a heavy loadThis weight is not a pound of gold,but rather a pound of worthless rocksAnd now I’m spitting bits of gravelas I try to talk
Lonely:When you'reso unwantedthat evenyour thoughtschooseto exityour company.
Apologies to a friendYou pour your heart out to me,and are willingto submerge mein an oceanof loveyet when I see the waterrushing towards me,I convince myselfI don't liketo swim
SavedYour tangled up soulhas taken a toll,Hiding dark and deepthe secrets you keepThe tears you have shedfrom thoughts in your head,Dear they were all fiction:a made up addictionI want you to knowI see through the show,I know that your eyestell genuine liesI watch as you feignas you’re still in pain,And my soul will be toountil I have saved you
LungsMaybe ifour lungsexhaled moneyinstead ofcarbon dioxide,we'd valuelifea little more(or maybe we'd just go broke).
You're worth so much moreShe was the typeto cut her wrists,and then swallow therazor blade,because looking at whatshe'd donewas even harderto digestbut I want to tell herto let the emotionss l p i lout of her mouth,instead of herskin,and that I'll gladlylet the words slice me,if it meansit'll saveher wrists.
You only fly for a little whileShe was just four years oldkicking her feetharder and harder,as the swingset creakedand crackedShe finally reached the peak,jumped off,and said,"Mama, I'm gonna fly."and so she did;three feet into the air,sticking the landinglike a gymnastAnd I wonder everydayif those were the same wordsshe mutteredbefore jumping off that bridge,unable to remember,you only fly for a little while.
Railroad TracksYou drawrailroad trackson your wristhoping themetal-made grooveswill takeyou somewherebetterBut these tracksyou're chugging along ononly put youon a trainthat is zoomingtoward a deep,dark tunnelAnd at the end of this tunnel,there is no light.
When you lose a best friendWhen we said friends forever andcrossed pinkies like grade-schoolers,I could only believe those wordslodged in your heartlike they did minebecause every time I think backI can't help but remember thelate-night conversationsunder star lit constellations,and study sessions where welearned more about each otherthan we did Biology but now it's clearthat each beat of your hearthas made those words fade,and you could care lessabout crossed pinkiesbut I'll still see you,and hear your voicewhisperingforever, and I'll still wishthe meaning hadn't changed-like you.
Young LoveI was so youngwhen I first heardthe beats of my heartpulse lightly upon my ribcage;my toothpick bonesquite fragilein comparisonto the powerful palpitationsAnd I was still youngwhen I heard againthe throbs of my heartpound forcefully upon my ribcage;my metal bar bonesquite strongin relationto the butterfly-wing beatsSo you better hurry, boyas my ribs are becomingthick as steel,and you’ll soon need a metal cutterto reach my heart(And I don’t want to get damaged in the process of being loved).
Sheets“I adore you,”she said, whimsically twisted in the rippled gossamer sheets of their bed.And in these words were memories of weather-worn love letters,long kisses with smeared roseate lipstick,and layered mascara outlining her chatoyant eyes,for he loved the way it looked.“I misspoke,”she said months later, tightly grasping the rippled gossamer sheets of her bed.And in these words were soiled and crumpled goodbye notes,untarnished roseate lipstick on her opulent lips,and smeared mascara, creating an ashy mess on her pillowcase,for who cares if he used to love the way it looked.She whispered to empty sheets,“I meant abhor you.”
When you care too muchI'm so afraidof losing peoplethat I attachmyselflike a leechand nowI'm stuck heresucking lifeout of everyoneI tryto reach.
.you buried me deep and called it a triumph,but you never realized -I'm a seed.
Sanctuary?Shadows Can't Follow You In The Dark.
DifferenceTo be lonely is painful,To be alone is liberating.
one.you told me that lifewas full ofcolor... thenwhy do mytearsrungrey.
the dead and the dyingthe funny thing abouthumans is thatwe think we areinvincible and immortalgods.no—we're allroadkill,living ina tainted worldwhere cars drivetoo damn fast.and me,well,i just try toget by withoutbeing hitmore than once.
We see different starsWe see different starsWhile yours shine throughoutthe darkness of your night,light the way into your sky,and hold your wishes tilthey finally come true,mine reflect in the murky filthfrom which they can be seenacting as disgusting mirrorsinto a world which cannot be mine
ProblemsHatred, whether based onYour looksYour personalityYour smileYour tearsYour realityYour fantasiesYour happinessYour depressionYour honestyLiesFeelingsDreamsGoalsWishes..Hatred,Hatred is the problem.Not you.
.what doesn't kill youcomes back with something strongerto finish the job
-she knew he was a grave, but she buried herself in him anyway.
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moonhas craterstoo,and lookhow brightit shines,even inthe darkestof times.