why does it feel this way
when I hear the songs you write

and why does it cut me so
to think of a lifetime of lost nights

by your side
by your side
by your side
bye

They always told me
That the hardest part about drowning
Is the first breath in.
That's when you start counting.

Your lungs fill with water
You're struggling for relief
And the pain seeps in.
And don't forget the grief.

I think letting go
Is just as hard
Because there's no goodbye.
Death always plays the wild card.

I'm always filled with rage toward people telling me to change.

Maybe it's because as much as I hate myself,

I wouldn't rather be anyone else.

what's the point
of picking petals
off flowers
when my fate
is the same
every *******
time