No matter what anyone says i know i'm pretty ugly
The kind of ugly that's pretty
The kind that's so different its hard to call ugly
Because it's just not comparable to pretty

The quiet has a strong smell
No usual pleasantries remain between us
We're just left to marinate in the air of regret

I’m angry at inspiration.
It breeds expectation,
And don’t you know that expectation
Is happiness’ enemy?

You walk on broken legs
You taught me to fight with broken arms
Because you told me
"The world doesn't care if your hurting"
We have to make it care.

He likes to collect feelings
the angry ones
the sad ones
the happy ones
His mind grows heavy
with this adamant passion
He sleeps knowingly
and without peace
as if he can sense the bad
creeping around him
ready to pounce
You watch
wishing
you could help
wishing he could know
that he's safe
because no matter what
you'll always protect him.