Down by the riverside, on a log right next to the water, I sit.
I stare at a point across the river, letting the sunlight reflect into my eyes. The ripples travel across the river. I see myself in the river.
I think back to the good times we had. We laughed, we smiled, we enjoyed the moments. I gave you my heart, and you gave me yours.
I gave you my heart, held together with tape, hoping that you would treat it with care...
I hoped, but it didn't happen.
You broke my heart, crushed it like a bug.
My heart has now shattered into millions of tiny splinters, and it will be virtually impossible to tape it back together.
All because you decided to squeeze in my heart a little too hard...

The tide comes in
       The tide goes out
The sun goes up
       The sun goes down
The moon will wax
       The moon will wane
The life will live
        The life will die
The sad girl will be sad
        The sad girl will stay sad

Some things are just constant

It's not in loneliness.
There are many like him

It's not in not having
for whatever he has
means nothing.

It's not in despair
for it is pain
that means he's living.

It's not in facing
his utter purposelessness
and cherishing it,
because that's all he has.

It's not in recognising
his own meaninglessness
and finding meaning,
because that's all he knows.

It's in moments of brief escape,
in tiny deaths
in dreams
and waking dreams,
where he is awake.

It's in seeing
the others
and knowing they weren't made the same.
They were made perfect,
unable to question their existence:
to not know such pain.

It's in his utter contempt
for his fellow man;
His blind hatred
for all living beings.

It's in a world
in flames
and falling apart
where he finds peace.

Prowling the earth
sparing nothing.
Only a cruel God
could've made
such a sorry beast.

And the beast stares into himself
and coldly confronts his own emptiness
He does not know why.
Agony to be awake.
To live is to die.

That's the pain of being human.
Cast down into the chaos of history.
To be born and to die, for nothing
it seems.
And to go on, without question;
without knowing
what it means.

I set an empty plate on the other side of the table
I’ve been expecting her all day, the least she could do is show up for dinner
I pour her some wine, I know she hates red
I write a card and lay out some flowers in case it’s something I said

It’s growing late so I lay out all of the dishes
I eat alone and my hopes diminish as I play our song with no one there to hear it
I even made mashed potatoes, her all-time favorite
I put the wrapped box with her name on it where I know she’ll see it

I end up drinking both glasses
Hell why not the bottle
Another year has passed and I can’t bury the sorrow
Of the choice she made not to wake up on the ‘morrow

Is it my fault she left?
She said I just wasn’t enough this time
But I tried my best
I’ve never been able to get the guilt off of my chest

I am worried that one day
I will fade from your memory
for it is you who gave me hope
when I thought all was lost