Why do you love me?
My face isn't pretty.
I'm not even smart.
I'm just a fool with a funny
laugh and a fragile heart.

I know I'm a fool for
running away from love,
especially when love is the only
thing I've been dreaming of.

But I'm afraid of rejection, so I
isolate myself from other's affection.

Time after time I find myself
walking this road alone,
with just the thought of love
to keep me warm.

You brighten up my day
in such a peculiar way.
My usual blue feeling
morph into a smile which the
familiar tears can't wash away.

I wish I cared a little less
about what the world thinks of me.
Because it only makes me more depressed
when perfection is always out of my reach.

I wish I loved myself a little more
for the sake of my starving self-esteem.
But I lost the key to the entrance door
thus my happy ending remains a pipe dream.

The black ink curves over my
skin like a crouching tiger.
The pain is nothing compared to the open
wound that has settled in my heart.
My guardian angel with no wings
nor halo has given me the emptiness.
He sits on the silver-plated moon,
he keeps her company.

The ink has etched into my skin,
writing down his and my history.
Without him the Grim Reaper would
have harvested my life-flower long ago.

He held his hand over me when
I walked on broken glass.
He hummed lullabies when
the demons screamed their chants.
He wiped my tears away
when the mirror was distorted.
His presence played chess with
the ever oppressive solitude.

Now that he is gone, I am an easy
prey for the lions of the world.
I'm just a bunny,
my vegetables can scare nobody.
But he was also a bunny,
a bunny who fought to the last.
So the least I can do is fight so
he can see he did not fight in vain.

And if I ever feel lonely,
I'll just dive into the moonlight
where he resides.

Touch me with your words, not your hands
come to me naked, even when you're covered
devour my soul, and worship my mind
trace my skin and kiss my battle wounds

Read my story the dancing ink displays
whisper words of salvation into my ear
don't protect me, I know how to wreck
I don't want your gold, only your hand in mine

I cut the pain away, I cut you off as well
how can I survive, when all I know is hell

I've seen the world burn down, I've seen my self decay
but what should I do, when my reality fades away?

Tell me it'll be alright, tell me the morning is on its way
hold my hand forevermore, and keep the loneliness at bay

The pain rushes in with the tide,
and I feel so alone now, without you by my side
the darkness is whispering sweet dreams of mine,
but what am I supposed to do
when the darkness comes inside?

They call me the angel child;
and I suppose at some point, I once was one.
But my demons have cut off my wings a long time ago.

I have butterflies
roaming in my chest.
But these are not the
good butterflies;
these are the bad ones.
They have been kissed
by death and their wings
coated in despair have
found a nest inside of me.

The "us" in my head was just
a stillborn dream of mine.
But in another life, that dream
would live and breathe with us.