he tells me to **** my fears
i try, i try my best to **** them
i lean over them in the darkness of the night
thinking to stab them
with the sharpest of the knives
i hold it tightly in my hand
i expect them to put up a fight
but they don't, they do nothing at all
and i realize that i cannot **** them
i cannot **** something that has been
a part of me since the beginning
so i pull up the trunk from under the bed
and lock them away and tell them to be quite.

he tells me again to **** all my fears
i tell him they are dead, yes i lie
he buys it easily and i secretly smile

i hate my fears yet they feel like the only thing
that is truly mine.

I wish I could tear my skin away to show you the scars unseen.
So you could see how my hearts been beaten and battered,
Stomped, forgotten,
And worst of all,
ripped apart.
If you could see the story of my heart,
Yours would cry for mine.
But this thick skin doesn't open up easily,
Or for just anyone.
It protects so that my heart sustains no more injuries or pain.

This is how I feel
Maybe that's not how I look
But this is how I feel
And that's whats important

A self destructive terrorist an anti social embarrassment
not one to sport a bomber vest but the first to volunteer to jump off a cliff not wanting to please god up above just pleading to end his own life due to lack of love this isn't a terrorist in the sense of harmful to others he only harms himself  when he can escape the company of others surrounded by many yet he is alone could never harm a fly but he'll wage war on himself he'll draw plans on his wrist with the razors of bliss and drop bombs of pills into the abyss no children will die no mothers will cry just another heart failure in the works the city will stand and the man will fall he has finally won the war as he breathes his last breath he was just a normal man not a killer he's not the only one the self destructive terrorist he hides in everyone

Sometimes we fall in love with the dark
and I of all people, know this best.
Sometimes we are too broken to
be healed by anything this world has to offer.
I have read this story a thousand times.

When I was 17 I learnt at 2 am
when you are not yet asleep,
and the voices have been
screaming inside of you for hours
your only friend is the darkness that surrounds you.

When her hand fits so perfectly within yours
how can you asked for a better lover?
She has always been there for you,
even when the rest of the word left
and you didn’t know, if you will see tomorrow.

And there has been so many days were
I didn’t know if I would ever see tomorrow.
Still early in the morning she has always
called me back before the sun as risen.
I have always came back.