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.
Melancholy thoughtsI tastethe sweetnessin your words,only to wonderhow many othershave tastedthem too.
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.
IntrovertEveryone's tryingto get out ofthe shadowof their parents-I'm here tryingto get out ofthe shadowof myself.
Lonely:When you'reso unwantedthat evenyour thoughtschooseto exityour company.
Candle WaxYou meltmy heartlike candle wax,but I'm afraidover timeI'll getburnt.
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.
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
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).
When you care too muchI'm so afraidof losing peoplethat I attachmyselflike a leechand nowI'm stuck heresucking lifeout of everyoneI tryto reach.
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
DifferenceTo be lonely is painful,To be alone is liberating.
Sanctuary?Shadows Can't Follow You In The Dark.
one.you told me that lifewas full ofcolor... thenwhy do mytearsrungrey.
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.
Death isn't a fresh perspectiveI saw my motherswallowing something smallwhen I was just a childThe anguish in her eyesfaded, as she told meit was just atic-tac,with a little extra kickmaybe years later,that's how I convincedmyselfto swallow fifteen,thinking it'dgive me a fresh perspective;in the end,my breath reekedof deathinstead of mint.
AlcoholicYour tux is the colorof a coal miner’s faceafter a long, hard day of work:something you’ve neverhad to experienceYet you talk as thoughyou’re just as worn out;your trivial chit-chatis turning syrupy with every sip,although your sentencesaren’t getting any sweeterAnd you grab another glassof the effervescent liquid,hoping the sea of black will blend together,and it will be dark enoughfor you to fall asleepAnd as you walk tipsily to the bathroom,the overpaid opera singerbelts her last high note- a bit too high;your crystal glass shattersinto a thousand piecesAnd with it, you shatter too.
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.
.you buried me deep and called it a triumph,but you never realized -I'm a seed.
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.
.listen to your heart;it is the one that knows bestof the inner dark
.death has a wayof assuring youthat he is youronly friend;he's the onlyone that willstay with youwhenever youreach the end
.green childrenforce themselvesup and outof their beds -the sun smiles,and reaches downto embrace them
It's okay to be imperfectThe moonhas craterstoo,and lookhow brightit shines,even inthe darkestof times.