I don't know unless you tell me.
Stop yelling.
I don't know.
I'm sorry, I don't know.
I can't tell you.
I'm not difficult.
Stop it, I don't know.
I don't understand.
Why won't you tell me.
What did I do.
Stop yelling.
I can't help it.
I don't know
I didn't yell.
I'm not fighting.
How am I fighting.
I'm scared.
Please tell me what I did.
Please, I'll fix it.
Just tell me.
I don't know what I did.
Why are you angry.
I'm not angry.
Don't yell at me
Go away.
I don't understand.
You're not telling me.
I'm sorry.
I shouldn't argue.
No, I don't know.
I told you that.
I don't understand.
Why are you yelling?

Please, I love her more than freedom,
and I want her to be free.
Please, I'd sell my soul a thousand times,
to drive her far from me.

But she'll starve by twisted morals,
may pain keep at bay the dread!
And I want her to be happy,
in a world that wants her dead.

I can't help her. I can't save her.
I can't stop her. I can't run.
If she finds her way to nothing,
then I won't have anyone.

"Well, I know it's not important"*
and I know I shouldn't dare.

I'm so ******* egocentric,
"Not your problem, you don't care."

On the days I thought you liked me,
"I'm a bother, I'll just go,"

"I'll just leave right now, I'm sorry,"
I just wondered-I don't know.

My pretensions are my problem,
"I'm so sorry, I'm so wrong."

"But I thought maybe you liked me?"
I thought maybe. Not for long.

"Because no one ever liked me,"
That was justice, that was right.

And my selfish fears are showing,
*"So I'm sorry. Love you. Night."

My penance,
I'm lonely,
I'm tired,
I'm sick.

My heart is
too weak and
too hungry
to tick.

I've found no
great gods, or
great men, or
such things.

Man's angels
are crippled,
I've seen their
dull wings.

My savior's
a fool, who
can run, but
not see.

I'd guess that
she's blind, and
I pray she's
not me.

I'll stumble
I'll wonder,
In hell, I'll
rejoice.

And pray that
I live to
regret each
mad choice.

It's hell where
we're going,
its hell where
we've been.

Lets pray we
Don't choose to
be lonely
again.

The words are coming wrong, my heart is breaking, broken, commas and conundrums pester me.
And so my **** expressive heart and soul break fingers left and right.
And what I say is nonsense in my head, so **** the page!
My punctuation scatters, splatters, counting feet abandoned.
In abandoning my feet,
The rules are not abided, and we're crossing lines, and wells,
And maybe truth is here, but concepts in the wind, not gathered thoughts.
What can I say in words, except goodbye to form and thought and ordered order. Pictures, rules, and grammar.
Counting feet has brought me far,
The blacker blasphemy of free association broke the hand between my head, and pretty words for me to read.
So take away my drivel, take it, free me of the words without a sense, the words are come wrong.
So counting feet. My broken heart. I have just all to say, but I can't say without a passion or a crime, for sure what I could not mistake. First blush, first kiss, and never yet again we find a way and feint again each other, senseless, and we'll fall and split alone, and time again.

I swear you're free to wander,
You have no debt to me.
I only hope you wander,
Alive and well and free.

What worse concession is there, than to smile at our daydreams?
If my prayers are a betrayal, who's the traitor, who's betrayed?
If it's just a flight of fancy, please don't leave me to my daydreams.
If I lose the mind I valued, will I wish my soul had stayed?

In the grand scheme, on the grand stage, in a world where I'm forgotten,
My convictions are of value, my delusions, maybe not.
Is it culture, God, or people that can't stand to be forgotten?
I don't want to be remembered for sweet dreams I soon forgot.

We're alone, at last, forever, is there meaning in the windstorms?
Are my questions well constructed, and what's more, should they be posed?
And I'll never find find the answer if I gaze into the windstorms.
Let books be put away for now, and open forums, closed.

Leave my questions to the gales and my delusions to the churches.
There's no place here for my lies, not those I hear or those I tell.
If I'm kneeling in infernos, pull me burning, from the churches.
Let me build until I blister. Wind and rain, or man and hell.

Where does faith become deception?
Can my life be saved by lies?
Is this life flawed at conception?
Is it hell if no one dies?

I'm a doll, today, tomorrow.
If you hurt me, I won't care.
Yours to ****, to lend, to borrow.
Shoot me now, I'm unaware.

Leave me bleeding and betray me.
If you hate me, I won't feel.
Measure, slice, condemn or weigh me.
Come on, shoot me! I'm not real.

I can bend, or break, or shatter,
I'm a phantom, I can't cry.
**** me here, it doesn't matter.
Leave me hanging, let me die.

A girl plays a game.
A boy dances in vain.
Her revenge is the same.
And her lines betray pain.

And the game is a lie.
And the lights fade too fast.
Since her anger won't die,
Her redemption can't last.

While the story is spun,
It's a story he fights,
The crusade will be won,
As she wilts in his lights.

Hear the boast of a fool,
In defense of the same.
Is she frightened or cruel?
Actors playing hell's game.

Throw a stalemate on stage,
Force a dancer to act,
Curtains can't contain rage,
Drama bleeds into fact.

And the villain will die,
On the stages, in the lights.
But the play is a lie,
On and on, the world fights.

And you're not who I pretend, who I love, to no avail.
And you say that I'm a friend, but I cower as you fail.

And your mercy carves a fool,
And my cowardice is cruel.

And the fires that can't follow, never laughing as I flee.
And pretending and forgetting pleading, crying, hard to see.

And you're less than I pretend, friends are scarred, my hands are burned.
And you say that I'm a friend, lost or living, now returned

Would a captive daydream say.
She was nothing to betray.

Loving ghost and perfect daydream, cruel sadistic, perfect still.
And the friend who once betrayed you now turns to her own free will.

She's as dead, will I? pretend, holy image, sacred lands.
Fraud, fear, fight, force, fire friend, marred ideals and stolen hands

And my fears can not be braved
And my ghost can not be saved.

She could teach if phantoms listen, she could dance, she doesn't choose.
She'll embrace love, lies, and folly, final dance, her love to lose.