Someone once told me,
that soul mates shared the same pain....

So I shared it from my core, a line straight to my heart.
It built the fiber of my being.

Some days I forget how soft the texture was,
How fragile the materials,

I found a way to make ends meet,
And I tugged away at the connection,

I kept pulling at your heartstrings,
Yeah, I yanked to pull you closer,

Thinking you understood my way....
But all I did was unravel you.

Starting at your heart.
Now I lay in a tangle of strings.

Don't know where the end is,
Don't know where the beginning went,

It's all knotted like my stomach.
Knowing I made you come undone.

There is a mess on the floor,
and it's definitely all my fault.

We can only know our own strings.
What binds us, what connects us,

Ultimately how to tear us apart
I've fallen into my own trap.

These Cris-crossed strings have made a net.
And I don't know how to get out again.

I.
You are perfect!
Body created by an artist
It's so cute the way you're picky about food and
you try to be healthy and active but
you drink and smoke.
Haha, you always make me laugh!

II.
Wow, is this really happening?
We finally kissed!
You must really like me too!
You actually want to keep going?
Oh My God! You look better Naked than I imagined.
I could lay next to you like this every night.

III.
So you don't want to be with me?
Got it.
No, no, it makes sense.
Yeah, I totally understand!
I'll be fine, it's no big deal, really.
I said I really liked you, but I didn't mean it either.

IV.
I don't understand.
Where did I go wrong?
Why am I not good enough?
I don't even know what I could do different.
If I ask I seem 'desperate'
Have I done this to someone before?

I do not love thee for that fair
Rich fan of thy most curious hair;
Though the wires thereof be drawn
Finer than threads of lawn,
And are softer than the leaves
On which the subtle spider weaves.

I do not love thee for those flowers
Growing on thy cheeks, love’s bowers;
Though such cunning them hath spread,
None can paint them white and red:
Love’s golden arrows thence are shot,
Yet for them I love thee not.

I do not love thee for those soft
Red coral lips I’ve kissed so oft,
Nor teeth of pearl, the double guard
To speech whence music still is heard;
Though from those lips a kiss being taken
Mighty tyrants melt, and death awaken.

I do not love thee, O my fairest,
For that richest, for that rarest
Silver pillar, which stands under
Thy sound head, that globe of wonder;
Though that neck be whiter far
Than towers of polished ivory are.

Son: “Can a wounded person be cured?”
Father: "Yes, but morally fallen persons cannot be cured."

I’m too tired to be mad
I’m too angry to be sad

Where does that leave me?
Alone and confused
Nothing to live for, just a bottle of *****

If anger doesn’t **** me
Sadness surely will
Time to give up, grab that bottle of pills

I finally wake up in the drab familiar room
Not the first time here, I’ve returned to my doom

I can barely breathe, and I cannot move
All I can see is a tangled web of tubes

Keeping me alive
I wonder what for
Someone had found me
Face down on the floor

I’ll eventually get out of this place
Back to my life, it’s too much to face

It’s time I leave this empty shell
I need to get out of this endless hell

Next time I will get it right
I’m waiting to embrace that soothing bright light