I am not very certain
if being alone makes one strong.
Because if it is,
then I'd rather be weak.
You've always wanted me to be strong,
to be better, to be cold, to be a stone;
yet all I've ever wanted is for you to stay.
Would you consider me weak?
I care not--
even Adam needed an Eve.
Maybe I am not afraid to be alone;
I'm just afraid that you'd leave.

beg for love
beg for care
beg for something
that won't ever be there

beg for attention
beg for some ears
beg for something
that won't help with your tears

beg for assurance
beg for permanence
beg for something
that causes emotional violence

beg them to stay
beg for a friend
beg for someone
who will leave you in the end

Ain't loved;
I couldn't be loved.
And it's okay,
not because it is okay,
but because it has to be okay.

Loved;
suddenly, I could be loved.
And it's all good,
not because they would,
but because I should.

I have this huge hole within me
a part of me is missing
I couldn't help myself
couldn't be helped by somebody
'cause all I'm good at is breaking

I keep on making mistakes
I keep on being a mess
Even if a thousand times my soul breaks
I just keep drowning in darkness

I push everyone away
away from me, away from pain
because that's the only way
for them to move a mountain

I couldn't do anything, but get things worse
I keep them all in my purse
because I am just a black hole
nothing but a black hole

Pain makes people wage a storm.
Most would release the beast in any form
without hesitation, without fear;
without minding the damage,
they wouldn't even mind the effect they manage.

As they release their storm,
they thought they could also release their pain;
but little do they know,
that they actually pass on the pain.
Instead of having it ended,
it continues to grow;
resurrecting, from one to another soul.

But mine is different--pain makes me silent.
There's this huge hole within my soul
which I couldn't even detect.
There's this heavy atmosphere
that prevents me from breathing.
I would like to wage a storm, but I couldn't.
I would like to release my pain, but I couldn't.
All that I could do is feel it.
Endure it.
Suffer from it.

Silence is all that I could offer the world;
not a storm, not a beast, or anything
that would cause some damage to others,
but silence that only brings damage to myself.

At least I wouldn't be able to hurt others;
the pain would just end within me.
Or so I thought it would end.

one, two, three teardrops fell;
behind these, you were the reason I can tell.
four, five, six steps away;
without anything, you are the cause, I say.

seven, eight, nine miles from peace;
I've been bothered, because of you at ease.
ten, eleven, twelve pairs of dresses;
next time, you won't be the reason of this sadness.