you have all of me
and you will not
accept
what i have
given you,
but you will not
give it
back,
either

Mother oh mother,
When may I go?

Mother oh mother,
I'm locked all alone

Mother oh mother,
Why won't you unlock me?

Mother oh mother,
I'm dying inside

Mother oh mother,
When can I be free?

Mother oh mother,
You aren't my mother

Mother oh mother,
You're the witch in the tower

Witch oh witch
Why keep me here?

Witch oh witch,
Who are you really?

Witch oh witch,
I just realized--
You're me

Me oh me,
Why can't I be free?

Like a joker I looked
Being laughed and teased
No retaliation or rejections

Being a clown is what I'm good at
but deep down
This clown, mind.

The worst part
Isn't the pain
Though it hurts

The worst part
Isn't the sadness
Though that's horrible

No,
The worst part
Is the emptiness

That feeling
When you don't see the step
And you fall down

When you try to sit down
And someone's moved the chair

When you reach for support
Only to find it's abandoned you

That is the worst part
Of saying goodbye

You went on your fishing trip
Caught a big one this time,
You said.
This one's a bit heavy,
Weighed down.
With a sharp tug on the pole,
You finally retrieved your catch.
Well, what is it?,
You asked.
You held something in your hand
Pulsing and black.
Whatever it is,
It's not worth it.
You threw it back into the water,
Back into the dark depths.
Let's keep on fishing.
I wanna catch a big bass.

They say there's plenty of fish in the sea
But you didn't even notice,
When you caught my heart.
Sure,
It was beaten
Almost unrecognizable.
But it only took you a second,
To judge my darkness
As impairment,
And toss me back to a personal hell
You reeled in my heart,
And you didn't even know.

I'm sorry I can't be
**The catch of the day.

I’m ashamed of how I miss you, it makes me feel weak. It’s a selfish kind of want, and I hate it. I’m so miserable it hurts. I just want to be with you

How can you not see
The pain in her eyes
As she sits there and cries

How can you not see
The scars in her heart
As it rips her apart

How can you not see
The thoughts in her head
As she wishes she was dead

How can you not see
That three little words
Eight little letters

Is all it would take

You told me to write this down
So I did.
It was the first thing you ever wanted to be permanent.

But a year later I found out you had scribbled it out
With a black Sharpie.

Now I’m left wondering just how permanent words are.