I never knew bruises
could come in every color
until you hit me.
You gave me the entire rainbow
from blackened purples to sickly greens,
you gave my once smooth canvas texture,
it made you so happy see me bleed.
But this art project became our little secret
because no one else is supposed to see,
It's not like anyone would believe
that he gave me these bruises,
that he mixed these colors so pretty.
No, Daddy made this rainbow just for me.

When I'm sad the words stop,
my trail of ink slows
I have so much on my mind,
so much that clashes together
that my thoughts cancel each other out,
the pen won't touch the paper,
and all I'm left feeling
is lonely and confused and scared,
because these words are trapped inside of me,
pounding on the prison bars,
screaming to get out,
suffering in my sadness
until the end of eternity.

It seems like life
has too many lows
and not enough highs.
Just like gravity,
what comes up must always come down,
and when you fall flat on your face
it's always hard to get back up again.
You wonder why you even try anymore,
I wonder why I even try anymore,
but the reason I haven't succumbed myself
to the manic madness inside my head
is because of the rare things
that come in life like
double rainbows and
four leaf clovers and
happy tears and
laughing until your stomach hurts and
all of the nonsense about dreams and
true love that probably isn't even true.
And though these things may seem simple,
I'm too curious to give up.
I'll always be chasing the end of the rainbow
even if I never find it,
because life is just a bottomless pit
if there's nothing for me to hope for.

You twist the truth
into boy scout knots
and put them on display
for all to see.
"Look at me! Look what I did!"
and everyone believed it,
while I sat in the corner, quiet,
because people only want to believe
the story that sounds the most interesting.

I just found out after years
of light and loving laughter
that you've hated me all this time.
It's crazy the number
of masks in your collection,
happy and caring and loving masks
that were, in the end, too good to be true.
Just thinking about you makes me think
about the masks we all put up.
It's like every morning we wake up
to go to a huge masquerade party,
and instead of taking
our masks off at the end of the night,
we sleep with them on,
always lying, always deceiving
even when the party's over.

We all were so close,
we all had each other's backs,
and you gave the best hugs
until you stabbed me in the back.

You had turned so fast
I had to do a double take,
I had no idea
you could act so fake.

I wish I would've known
that you had another person
living inside of you,
a parasite infecting you
from the inside out,
I wish I had never had to find out.

I wish I could just have
the old you back,
because you used to give the best hugs
until you stabbed me in the back...

It's not love
if you kick someone to the curb,
if you drop someone like a bad habit.
You said you had no one to talk to
even when I was standing next to you,
yet you always looked at her
like she was the only thing
that could put a smile
on those lips I've kissed.
You had checked out of our relationship
before it was even over,
and here I am, still trying to be sober,
trying to let go of the grasp
I still have on you.
I was nothing compared to her.
I'm sorry I couldn't be her,
I'm sorry it wasn't love.