You might have been steady
Loving
And kind
But your love didn’t surprise me
Or blow my mind

Isn't it a tragedy?
I used to lay in bed at night.
Thinking about who'd miss me.
Only my mom came to mind.
It was always enough to stop me.
But I came to resent her for it.
That's when I realized.
Life isn't fair.
Isn't it a tragedy?

I love
And I hate
I hate compliments
I love them from you
I hate advice
But I love it from you
I hate loving others
But I love loving you
I hate being loved
I wish you'd love me.

Remember when your heart was so black?
Figuratively I suppose.
You were emotionally invincible.
But she comes along and breaks the wall.
Now you're emotions are on your shoulder.
But it's not enough.
You're left with these emotions you've never dealt with before
What do I do?
I wish my heart was black again.
Figuratively.

I had a life once, with friends and school and clubs.
I don't anymore.
Does that make this the afterlife?

You don't need
a knight in shining armor.
You need one
who is battered and bruised
but alive and real.
You need a knight
in stained armor.
A shining armor
would mean,
no battles won,
no battles lost,
just a piece of
jewelry
to dress up.
A stained armor
would mean,
battles fought
with bravery,
battles lost
with acceptance,
and most of all
making it through
all of these battles
to be with you.

Doing escapades
is just not enough for you.
You make sequels
to previous mistakes
and just like films,
they get worse and worse.

We have this habit of making homes
out of people who tend
to burn any moment.

And we keep collecting the ashes,
putting them in jars,
hoping to save what little remains.

We made ourselves believe that other people
are remedies; prescribing—injecting ourselves with drugs
that walk and talk and breathe

And I have long since realized that we have seas inside us,
and there are a thousand shipwrecks aching for freedom,
but we hold on to every damaged piece.