Sometimes I think it might
      be better to be dead
             already so then maybe
                     it wouldn't hurt so much
                             seeing you moved on already

                                                                             did you ever really care?
                                                                                   about what we had?
or was it all just a game to you?
       just a puppet in your hands
           I forgot how to smile
                and now I have to relearn
                   everything I thought I knew
                        just like breathing
                            now it feels like pulling teeth
                                                                   Sometimes I think it would be better
                                                                 to be dead already
                                                             so then I wouldn't have to remember
                                                     the way you lied when you said you loved me
     there was no warmth in your arms
          and there's only distance in the stars
                I think I'm waiting
                      but for what I don't know
                                                                maybe there's hope somewhere out there
       but can I find it?

Am I even real?
my head hurts just
trying to think about it

You say I'm not
and I suppose I am
supposed to believe you

But if I'm not real
then what am I
and why am I here?

It hurts to try and remember
and you're calling me the wrong name
don't recognize the person in the mirror

Wasn't I somewhere else before?
Do I know your name?
Why can't I remember?

It's dizzying to try and keep track
of every time I lose track
and every time I forget

You make fun of me
for not remembering
but I don't know you

And I'm starting to wonder
if I'm even real
here any more

Am I supposed to be?
or should I just
learn to fade away

It's all so bright
then too dark
I think I might be dying

Or just... fading
passing out
and waking up again

somewhere new
new people
and new names

But I still don't recognize
the face in the mirror
and I don't know my name

My boundaries never mattered to you
they were just lines in the sand
impermanent and easy to ruin
just step over it and never realize
the trust I gave you
shattering by your hands

I gave you everything
heart
soul
mind
time
love

And you took it for granted
treated me like a toy
a puppet for your whims
nothing more than yours
yours, yours, yours, yours, yours
always
there was no escaping

It felt like drowning
suffocating
choking
dying

I think I forgot how to breathe
when I was with you
I thought I was dying
every time I opened my eyes
and you were still there
I started to wish
it was just a nightmare
so I could wake up

but that would mean I was asleep
and there was no rest
no break
no escape
and even now
I'm not sure you're really gone

They don't seem to care
about what their words do
like a disease in my head
making me want to give up

It's hard to hold on
when they're trying to push you
right over into the edge
and back into that drowning darkness

They call it suicide
but they don't seem to see
their words are killing us
like a disease in our head

They don't care
they want us to be "ok"
they say; but actions mean more than words
and their actions don't help

Because they don't care
our grades, our money, how polite we are
that's what matters
who care about the rest?

Maybe he hits me behind closed doors
maybe I cry myself to sleep
maybe I want to give up
or maybe none of that is true

Would you ever actually listen?
because you haven't before
you don't listen
you don't care

You take and take
and you want me to keep on giving
but what am I supposed to do
when it all runs dry?

I'm just trying to survive
but the pressure you put on my head
is threatening to drown me
and you don't even see

There's nothing left
that I could call a home

Even before such warmth
never belonged to that building

It was a house for some
but never really a home

There's now only ashes
in what used to be our rooms

The smoke filled the sky
and all I could care for were the birds

The blood was spilled
long before anyone really died

The scars on my skin
fade long before the ones on my heart

There is no real end
to the torn remains

We could have been happy once
but that was always just a lie

I miss what you could have been
but not who you are now

You hurt me
and I bit back

And now we're farther apart
than ever before

We destroyed ourselves
and never cared how it hurt

I hope maybe some day
you can learn to love

But I know I don't want
to meet you again

There's a river that divides us
it's not one you can see
but it is undeniably there
you can try to wade through it
but you'd lose everything in the process

It's not really a choice we have
it is merely fate that decides
which side we land on
We can talk to each other
regardless of what side we're on
but we'll never fully understand

My hands are rough and scarred
and yours are soft and smooth
yet both of us know the pain
of being divided by something
we never got to choose

You ask if I might cross over to you
and I laugh but it's not funny
because I can't
to try would be a lie
to deny everything I am
is not something I can choose to do

Maybe some day
they'll let us build a bridge
so that maybe for once
we might really get a chance to understand

But for now I watch
as it seems like neither of us
can find happiness where we sit
but there aren't any stones
to build a bridge
so we wait
and hope maybe
you can still hear me
over the roar of the river

We have heard but not yet truly learned
of the truths that hide in the darkness

The true and quiet solemnity
of cold and quiet death

It is with nothing short of dread
that the dawn breaks and the sun rises

The light ever reaching yet still hesitates
to shine on the still warm figure of death

There is no joy in finding the light of the sun
and the only comfort of the dark may be that your cries are not heard

We are not yet truly understood but so alone instead
there lacks a point of joy in this long drudge of life

And yet we carry on for some reason
pushing hard against the unyielding walls of misery

For what joy comes from the misery of unyielding
woes that persist in spite of the laughter in the room

There is no real hope that lies between these walls
and yet you push on for not