I wish my eyes were cameras,
and my eyelids the lenses.
I wish I was the photographer,
and you my lovely scenery.
So I could forever keep that memory,
and you wouldn't pose for it;
to catch you off guard,
with your true beauty so freely showing.
To snap a picture of your merciful eyes,
your innocent smile,
and your childish cheekbones,
with your hair freely flowing;
adorning the monument that is your smile.
That way I could truly freeze time,
and I'd have something to remember,
the day I made you smile,
and you made my heart worth its beat.

I stood and watched,
as she said bye,
and away she walked,
saying goodbye.

I tried to talk,
to grab her hand,
I tried to walk,
to bring her back.

I couldn't move,
for I was trapped,
but it felt good,
trapped in her heart.

I stand behind a wall,
a mural,
a long stretched out, great barrier,
a monument made of bricks,
but no cement.
A border,
a wall I cannot cross;
for each brick
must first be removed,
but for every brick I take off,
two more blocks are put to take its place.
This is impossible,
when will I be able to continue on my journey,
if no matter how hard I try,
I'm still trapped
behind this huge block.

She said bye,
but not in a sad way.
She said bye,
and it made my day.

I ripped my heart from my chest,
and wrapped it on this cover.
Keep it for me, it's for the best,
hold it until someone says it's over.

Her eyes met mine,
but mine couldn't be found,
for they were lost in her dark curls,
enchanted and trapped in the deepest part of her heart,
but I never wanted to get out.

I was too shy,
too scared to talk to you.
Too stunned to reply...
Too slow, to say I love you.

I'm addicted to pain.
Maybe cause I'm immune to it,
I suffer what three souls couldn't handle.
but no matter how many times
I put on the rope,
how many pills I swallow,
how many times I pull the trigger,
the **** bullet will not come out.

Death herself does not want me,
so I lay here, and suffer.
I go to sleep every night, wishing for death.
Hoping to never wake up again,
and I wake up every morning,
wishing I hadn't,
wishing I had died painlessly in my sleep.

In the night the demons follow me, during the day they wear masks,
"I am tired",
"I am fine",
"I'm just tired",
"I'm fine".
Well I'm not!!!
I am dying inside, I am miserable,
and I only spread misery.
I don't want to suffer through death, but I want to die.

I don't want pity,
I just want things to be different,
I don't want to fail at what I hope to do, because,
almost dying changes nothing,
dying changes everything.
I am screaming at the four winds, hoping my shouts will stop it.
I am begging for help;
but I don't want attention.

I don't want pity,
so I lay here and swallow another pill,
I reload the gun,
I grab the rope,
I'm miserable.
I'm lonely.
I'm dying.
I am,
but I want to be,
I was....