her favorite story growing up was peter pan
because she wanted to be like him
she wanted to be fearless she wanted to be a leader
but more important she didn't want to grow up

her world was made of things that didn't exist
her mind was filled with thoughts that didn't belong there

it was never a struggle to be different
it was a fight to fit in.

Its 4 am the stars are out
words I didnt know existed were leaving my mouth

this boy appeared in my dreams
he showed me freedom and a little bit of danger
the words he spoke made me feel alive
when he touched me for the first time
I melted like snow when the sun is shining bright

black hair, darker than my soul
sparkling green eyes that could read my mind
curly hair and a golden smile

he was heartless but everyone has a heart
and I love him for being ashamed to show it

I fell in love with this boy but I dont even know his name
I wish we could hang our picture in a silver frame

oh strange boy that I have met in my dreams
please come into my life and make me believe
the world can be a good place

Home doesn’t have an address.
home has a beating heart and sweaty palms

please be mine.

I counted back from ten inside my head
whising you were still laying in my bed

She smiled at the stars like they knew all her darkest secrets
and all the hopeless kids on the street laughed at me
because deep down inside we all knew the universe didn't

Being reckless became a part of my life
somtimes my hair was navy blue and other days it was black
I loved the smell of danger and I liked being afraid

I wish we could start all over again
we would lay down together
surounded by pink flowers and a ***** mind

You could never keep your mouth shut
or say something positive

this boy hated the world and everyone in it
except for me

and thats why I felt like the most special person
in the world whenever I was near him.

love is for the living not for the ones with a dying soul on the inside.
love is for people who can give more than they can take.
true love is only for people with a pure soul and a golden heart.
I guess love isnt a thing for me.

a voice is for the broken ones.
talent for writing is for the lonely ones.
seeing things that arent there is for the people with an open mind.
being able to speak with the death is for the childeren who are already dying.
I guess this is more a thing for me.

we are living in a world where it is important to speak up about your problems.
you need to tell people the things you are dealing with.
but I cant do that without being judged or get called names.
Im not complaining about my hard life. Im not seeking for attention.
that is why I keep my mouth shut about everything that is going on in my head at the moment.

writing is my escape and distracting of the thing Im really wanting to do at this moment of being alone in my room thinking about why are we living on this earth.
thinking about if there really is a god? and if so.. why Im suffering everyday dying inside.

I want him to take me home, but he keeps telling me that isnt an option.
he says I dont understand the reason why Im here yet.
he cuts the conversation off but every night I will try again to get inside his head.
I need the answers.

dont you wish you were not here anymore.
only thing that will remain is bones, bones of stolen diamond.
tears falling down on my mothers knees, wanting me to come back.
but ones you begin there is no way back and we all know that.
there is a hell I have seen it, there is a hell let's keep it a secret.

Im willing to make a change in my life at this moment.
Im just waiting for my demon to come back so I can talk with him about this.
He wants me to cry he wants to see my blood,
He needs it tonight, my blood is what keeps him alive and I dont want him to go.
maybe this is just my sick mind writing.

Demons can make my hell feel like home and I never want to leave it.
being called sick is for the hopeless I am only broken.