I have people to support and impress and make proud
I don't have the time or funds to afford breaking down
So don't take me seriously when I consider the knives too long
I'm an adult now, won't use the pain, am convinced it's wrong

But I do bleed pretty.

I bleed deep red, it's mesmerizing, stains the floor and bed
I bleed like molasses, slow drops hit the ground like lead
I crackle like a fireworks display, bubble up into vertigo
My vision gets hazy and the colors smear and the light glows

But everything gets better and I'm completely reformed
I'm no longer lonely or depressed or feeling unbearably worn
I don't choke back sobs when I'm in a crowd or at home
I don't stare at nothing and feel impossibly alone

But I do bleed pretty.

Now, I'd never touch a knife, never would go back to those days
When blood meandered down my arm in a thousand different ways
I'd never think twice, never consider diving into pain
And no knife on earth calls with a sugar-sweet whisper of my name

I am happy in what and where I've chosen, would never trade
I have no second thoughts, regrets, no uncertain days
I enjoy life, can't begin to fathom why I ever wanted it to end
I am satisfied with the lack of people I have to call friends

But I do bleed pretty.

A drop on the floor becomes a puddle so fast it intrigues me
One towel becomes four, it still smells like copper, isn't clean
The sound of a blade gently coaxing skin apart is bliss
Only heard when blood rushes in and out and all is quiet.

I do bleed pretty.

Let it go. Really. Actually let it go and walk away. If you keep holding on when there's nothing left to hold on to, you'll only hurt yourself in the end.

People say love is not supposed to hurt.
But I loved you
And it hurt like hell.

You burned me; I burned you..yeah it's all true.
I said I didn't love you the same way anymore.
You told me to grow up and act like an adult.
I'm not here to fight with you or drag your rep through the mud.
I'm just here to clear the air once again.

We were falling in love faster than I thought possible.
I was crazy about you and you were crazy about me.
Soon a month passed by, then six and then a year and before we knew it, a year and a half had flown by.

But not everything good lasts forever.

We were just two people who thought we could make it forever.
And oh how I wish that were true.
But you can't make your heart feel something it don't believe.

This is the last time I tell this story.
The last time I think about all that happened; the good, bad and the crazy.
I'm leaving it here, on the threshold of no man's land.
Yeah this is the last time that I write about how I wish it would've lasted.

I live in my head
I have my own room there
My own bed
Where I do my best thinking
Where I am most comfortable
It keeps me up most nights
Making to do lists and analyzing
conversations from days before
Daydreaming about everything
Some of the thoughts I have
are down right crazy
So crazy that it must not be me
there must be other people up there
and hell not just a room but a whole house
with several rooms and several conversations
I can envision it clearly
Sometimes I stay there for days
The lights are on
My shades are open
But no ones home
I do return to the real world and have
real conversations but seems like I
Always return to my head
Where I live
In my own room and my own bed

I'm counting on this mind to open up
I am counting on this heart to not close shut.

my eyes are all  three strained,
and my spinal cord feels maimed

This light, this information you have given me
Why does it cause such strain on my body
Why do I grow weaker at first
just to shoot through the crown with a might burst.


What is this life to live for,
why have I never opened any doors
why have i always longed for something more.