As the sun slowly sets
The precursor to the week
With deadlines,
                            Orders,
                            ­               Oh so bleak
The calm before the storm
  Too restless to enjoy
For everybody knows
     It's sunday's melancholy ploy

    Responsibilities loom overhead
     Our heart as heavy as the air
      The world has now gone silent
              We sit in subtle fear

The satin gown of hope a myth
      
   The heroes fallen                                      
                                    to the abyss

The bloom of death, no longer risen
Our souls trapped in endless prison

        Existence the master of all
        masked curses
    
              A song of tragedy with endless
              verses

   So if dying breath comes anyway
                  What's it matter
                 How soon the day

All suns set
Some plan no dawn
They care not for those who mourn

           I wish myself
      The blood to stop
     To soon not hold
   A single drop

So I promise you my heart for free
       If you swear
   You'll rip it out of me

believe me when i say
that these scars
are not a reminder of you
believe me, these scars
are a reminder
of how deep my love can be

believing a lie almost always feels better
than believing the truth

is that why when I tell myself he hasn't really changed,
I feel better then when I wonder if he had?

when i was eight

my mother and i
left my ****** father
after our bar play date
and here i am now

reliving their mistakes.
i wonder if they felt the same way?

i had a boy
who i had dreamt about,
who melted away my fears
and showed me how to be devout,
but i left him,
my willing victim,
for a man who breathed my name
and believed me to be the same age
as his brother,

his juvenile brother;
and he thought it was quite alright
to sneak a peek upside
my pleated skirt

with his camcorder
and sell what he had found to his friends.
boy, that's tough.
what i once thought was love
became a funhouse maze of
broken trust and confusion
mixed in with potent smoke

and i at seventeen became the underage joke
that he sat and laughed at
while i grasped at the ledge,
tried to pull myself up,
and the boy i had loved
heard about my new crowd
and left off to college without a single sound.

he wouldn't have me
and neither would the man
who choked me out with his blood stained hand.
now i lie in his bed and cry
for i have lost everything i had
all because a blue eyed boy
promised me everything he had

and i believed him.

If I told you my surname, you would start to laugh
It's silly, but it's mine, and it's meant to last.
F
L
Y
It's a noun, not a verb,
it's a little bug which lives everywhere.

I am a fly but I can't explore the sky,
"I don't have any wings" I repeated as a child.
But when were are together,
no chain can forbid me to reach the heavens.
You are to me
something that no one else could be.
I feel more like that bug when I'm with you
than when I'm on my own,
How you manage to do so, it's something I'll never know.

I am a fly but I can't explore the sky,
"I don't have any wings" I repeated as a child.

But touching this light blu sky
I finally realize
That that was not the truth.
My wings?
It's you.

I'm in love with you.....

NO......your not
You are not in love with me....
Your only in love with the idea of who you want me to be....
And that's not me ....