intent and hell bent,
to escape and to pretend.
that all's well,
and nothing else.
i pause to run,
and simply because there's no fun.
to say i am not sad,
and it isn't all that bad.
but seriously,
as i sprint furiously,
who am i kidding,
if i am not fibbing.
it's all pretense,
and it's my only defense.

is knowing were a part of doing?

well done, be better:
look!
she find the answer
what is the answer?
oh...
i think she start from the beginning again
since she question all the answer
she have found

the greatest battle is fighting yourself

I have never held a tighter grip
than I did in that moment
on your Black Flag t-shirt
draping over your trembling chest
the smell of hash and cigarettes
clung to our damp bodies
I had hoped it would mask
the stench of loneliness in the room
as your arms began to grasp tighter
around my broken bag of bones
I whispered something into your ear
and I have since then been repeating it
over and over again in my head
trying to make sense of it

*I'm not ready to let go yet.

ask yourself:
who am i now?
you've become like the rest of them,
you've become what you've spoken against,
you've become what hurts me the most.
you're just wasting my time
by playing these games,
or whatever they are.
you tried to turn the tables,
but ended up just turning them over.
you stopped,
and i kept going.
what can i do with you?
I guess the only thing i can do is
nothing.
the same old thing we've been doing to each other
since that day you fell for me,
the same day i put up those walls and said,
no sir.

Thanks fo being ****** to me
when all I wanted was a friend.
You treated me as a posession
and at times a personal therapist.
When you were beat to the point where you couldn't see
You knew I would stay by your side till the very end.
If he told me anything with discretion
you would instantly see red.
"Does this shirt make me look fat?"
"Ew, yes. Obese, at that.
Fix your hair, make your *** flat.
Drown in this perfume, you smell like your cat."
Such kind words.
You say you loved me?
That's not what I heard.
Not what I heard at all.
"**** yourself, stupid ****."

Yet everytime I had those feelings
I ran to you.
Any other feelings as well,
I ran to you.
But you gave me no comfort.
You gave me criticism.
You gave me your problems.
And so I stole your cookies
and converted your friends
and took your innocence
and lied to your face
and ****** your vice...
twice.