You gave me a nasty word
You gave me "hate",
the word I never had

You brought nothing but pain
You brought separation
You brought tears as you take our belovedz

What kind of a foreigner are you?
You don't belong in our world
We welcome foreigners who bring good not bad

Can you please go into exile?
Maybe you might enjoy it there 'cause here you made our world so small.

constantly creating worlds, as delicate and beautiful as paper,
strokes of ink scrawled all over that dissolve in the sun
and get set on fire,
i lost the addresses and now I'm a creature of a  poem-tainted new world,
rotting in the sun and constantly setting my mind on fire
recycling the dead universes, I was being strung along
Its hard to believe that these places were my homes when now they just drift through my mind and come in my dreams
if i went back there i would probably break down crying
i don't belong there anymore
it hurts

I'm made out of sunset
Of mirrors that smashed
I'm made out of nothing that is made to last
and if you know me,
I am permanently preoccupied with your past

Hearts don't
break like glass.

Hearts break like cables;
they bend and they twist.

It hurts a lot before they snap.