They give up too easily.
                                                         ­             Far too soon indeed you're right

Foolish mortals they never want what they have

                                                           ­             Always what someone else has

Wants
                                                    ­                                                    Desires

S­illy infatuations

                                                  ­   The whole bang lot of them are mortally
                                                        ­                      ****** aren't they?

Quite right, there is no consistency

                                                    ­               Why can't they always be in love?

Why can't they always maintain satisfaction?

                                                  ­                                   Why can't they always-

**** it, always is never

                                              **And forever is a lie

"When you love someone who does not love themselves, you learn that you have to love them enough for the both of you.

And sometimes that becomes your crutch and lifeline and begins to takeover and blur the view of the relationship for both of you."

School is over.  It is too hot
to walk at ease.  At ease
in light frocks they walk the streets
to while the time away.
They have grown tall.  They hold
pink flames in their right hands.
In white from head to foot,
with sidelong, idle look—
in yellow, floating stuff,
black sash and stockings—
touching their avid mouths
with pink sugar on a stick—
like a carnation each holds in her hand—
they mount the lonely street.

In winter I bundle up tight in layers of warmth
Like a love I've never felt
Draping scarf over hoody over sweater over skivvy
The wind bites my button nose and reminds me of a love
A love I know too well
Bitter cold brief sickening and harsh
I catch my eye in an ice smitten mirror and I'm torn
My eyes look like hell
How could anyone love me like warmth and fall
For this fat face of shame, tears and freckles
Even if they do
They'll never tell.

Every day she lies
To herself and the world around her
She puts on makeup too dark for her bright eyes
She keeps her mouth closed for when it opens
Its a web of lies
You could say she's so good she's convinced herself
Every morning she wakes in a disguise
She's the kind of sick you can't ever fix
She's a bundle of lies
She's dead inside

Every day He lies
To himself and the world around him
He dons clothing too dark for his skin,
He closes his eyes because when they open
He only sees whats inside
You could say hes so blind to it, that he leans on it
Every morning when he gets out of bed Like a crutch
Hes the kind of broken that can never heal
Hes the bundle of sin that will never be forgotten
Hes the ball of problems that forgot how to roll
Hes so...so dead inside