I'm a dogs toy and hes got me
ripping at the seems.

I say
its from innocent play.
That's what I like to believe.

Don't trust me.
I'm a dogs toy.
I cannot see.

Hes got my little button eyes
chewed out.

things are better
or i stopped looking.
whatever it is
its working

except the feelings are less 'feely'
dull if you ask me.

maybe just familiar with the pains
so they go unnoticed, un-noted.

chasing my tail
in circles of ongoing obligations

and im much less than satisfied.

I start to write.
I get the taste in my mouth
like I'm high again.

I forget to breathe.
I hold my breath
and feel my heart beat
in my skin.

Staring past the spaces.
My vision growing thin.

My mind
paints my face
with a grin.

Unsettling in.

When I write
feels like I'm high again.

I used to curse the ground I walked on

I'm so glad you came

Stepped into this world alone

to leave it just the same

though it sure is nice

here with you.

Wouldn't think twice

to be here

with you.

I am addicted to dying.
for I've forgotten how to live.

I'd have the devil sell me back my soul
I just don't think he works that way.

By now the eyes of god are crying,
and i'm settling in to stay.
somethings got to give.
I feel I'm giving up
on me.

i cant live.
i cant forgive.
and i don't pray.
no use in trying

now

that I'm so used to dying,
Still I'm crying out for something to believe

in

something barely thick enough
to dissolve away my sin

off of my sleeves.
I wear it on display
in hopes you'll stop me on my way
down.
before the leaves
of my clandestine life turn grey:
from green
yellow to brown.

and I should pray
but no use in trying
now

that i'm so used to dying.
All i have now is a daily reprieve.

i am addicted to dying.
can't remember how to live.

i'd have the devil sell me back my soul
i just don't think he works that way.

by now the eyes of god are crying.
somethings got to give.

cant live.
nothing to give
and i don't pray.
no use in trying.

so used to dying.

I discover something lovely
and rush to try and make it a part of me,
claiming suddenly I'm lovely as I could be -
if only I could make it my own.
I'll take it, and I'll break it, and I'll make it
into one of the songs I sing
'bout just how lovely it all would be -
if only I wasn't alone.

I wish to be something I see,
So I take it all and make it all
the song I sing.
Until I'm free to be me,
I'll fake it in the songs that I sing.

Oh, way back when
all the things that could've been
were all the things I couldn't see
in me, in me.
waiting on the time
when I'm ready to cut ties
with all the things that shouldn't be
for me, for me.
I'll keep pretending for so long
it won't be just another song
when I'm free.
When I'm free
to be me.

So I spend a lot of time reading books.
Lovely books about better days.
'bout how to live in these 'better ways' -
If only i could make them my own.
So I take 'em, and I brake 'em, and I make 'em
into one of these songs I sing
'bout how much better my life would be
if only, when I'm finally grown.

Repeating word for word,
regardless if I'm feeling fine
I take it all and fake it for a price.

Line after line,
not every song I sing is mine
but I can't help but think -
Oh, wouldn't it be nice?

I wish to be something i see
so I take it all and make it all
that song that I sing.
Until I'm free to be me
I'll fake it in the songs that I sing.

It won't be just another song
when I'm finally free
to be me.