Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Was this the right choice?
Seeing warnings on twitter
Thinking they're all quitters
Thinking you're better
But in reality, you're just as equal as them.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Seeing your friends play, you start multiplying
Not even touching a pipe and dying
You're on the floor, you're crying
Pressing start over and over again and trying
Knowing your high score is low and start lying
because you know you ****.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Questions going through your mind
"Why did I die?"
"Did I really touch a pipe?"
"Why do iPhone users only have day while Android have both day and night?"
"Why is it slower on other phones?"
"How do you get past 20?"
"Why do I keep dying?"
"Why do Android users have other colors?"
But the question you should be asking is...
"Am I going mad?"

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Now, the resolution.
Stop the addiction.
Press that "x"
You know its for the greater good.
I know YOU feel the ANGER whenever you die.
You don't wanna risk throwing your phone for that.
Take my advice. DO IT.
Before it ruins your life.

But as the day passes...
You can't.
You can't.
You can't.

Its too late.
Flappy Bird is now part of life.
Even though the anger
The anger that feels like your chest being stabbed by a knife
Hurts you so much
Deep inside you get a little happy...
Knowing somewhere in the world someone trying the same game
Got less than you.
Less than 3, 2, or 1.
And because of this you want to beat more people who **** more than you.

And this should be an achievement
You, state your name, got YOUR own high score.
YOU did it
YOU made it to one pipe or even more.
And if you didn't
Well ***** for you

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

I'm Writing you,
Cause there's nothing left here
For me to do
But please know that
I'm trying to make up for my mistakes
And you're moving on
With guilt and  memories
But I was wrong
To ever test us
This broken chord of
our music
is more than I can take

So this is the way that
I'll tell you
That I'll leave you alone
if you want me to
But I've had enough of this life alone

I'll give it up this time I know
I don't deserve to tell you
that I love you
There's nothing in this world
I'd take above you
I'm dead inside
Bring me back to life.

So,its never that late
to show you who i'm
to tell you that i care
and i know
you too wanna love me
and i know you'll understand
that i could be your
*'missing page'

It's better this way.
I'm better off as a
spectator to the
way everyone
else finds happiness.

They dress their
best and pray on
sundays.
I drink in stale
clothes and laugh
out loud in the
open park in
the dead of night.
High and at one
with the
thieving masked  
lords of the night.

Theirs are goals
and mine are troubling
questions that cause them
discomfort.
I try to pull on
the  answers
no one wants
to really
hear,
not even
myself.

They all long for
love and praise.
Heart shaped
chocolate filled
boxes is what
represents their
artificial idea
of love.

I touch not on
this subject.

I chase away my madness
while drunk and too
high to keep up with
my own shadow.

You'll find me in
the darkness if I let
you.

I'll have the pistol in
my pocket, a bottle
in my hand
and this dead
end love on
the mind.

When I was 5,
I laid bed
and awoke screaming in fear.
You held  me until I was calm
looking at me with your brilliantly green eyes;
you smiled
and told me,
"You'll be okay."

I believed you.

When I was 9,
I laid in the dentist chair.
The silly man said
I had a cavity.
So you walked up to me,
and put my tiny hand inside yours
and you said,
"You'll be okay."

I believed you.

And when I was 15,
I laid in bed and cried
because I was bullied on the first day of highschool.
You walked in holding a box of tissues,
and you sang to me with your beautiful voice,
until I felt okay.

For a second I believed you,
thinking everything would be okay.

At age 17,
someone broke into our house.
As we hid in the closet
I laid frozen in fear.
The only thing keeping me calm
was the smell of your perfume.
As the smell started to fade,
you whispered,
"You'll be okay."

I believed you.

Now, I'm 23,
and you're the one laying down,
but this time,
you're in an old white hospital room
eating stale bread and mashed potatos.
As you ate I watched you
and noticed;
the way the smell of mildew over powers your perfume,
the way your sparkling green eyes sunk into your skull,
the way your fragile hands held my own.

Finally you glanced up at me,
smiling,
you said,
"I'll be okay -
believe me."
you'll be okay // a.s.

When I was little, every Sunday I’d go to Church
I was a child drunk off of fairy tales and day dreams
And I loved the idea that we could go to heaven when we died
And the pastor looked me in the eyes and said
"God is with you."
And like any 5 year old would, I believed him

My family bowed our heads and prayed before every meal
But halfway through dinner they’d start yelling
And I remembered what the pastor told me
So I covered my ears and asked God to make it stop
But I felt all alone
And that’s why I’m an atheist

At school the kids would pick on me
I didn’t understand why they didn’t want me as a friend
And I prayed to God that they’d stop
But I also prayed for them too
Because I was a good Christian
And good Christians love their enemies
But nothing changed
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I remember the first time my mom hit me
One time during a fight
She told me I was stupid and worthless
And after a while I started believing what she said
I started to wonder
How could someone so hateful
Call them self a Christian?
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I prayed that God would make me beautiful
Because I wasn’t skinny
And I knew I wasn't good enough for that boy I liked
But every time I looked in the mirror, I felt the same
So I stopped kneeling in prayer
And started kneeling in front of the toilet
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I haven’t prayed in 5 years now
I have only one request of God if he exists
That he end the pain right now
But nothing happens
So once again, I will have to do things on my own
And standing so close to the edge
I think about how I used to love the idea of life after death
But now I’m obsessed with the thought that when I do
They’ll be nothing coming after
And I can have eternal sleep
And that’s why I’m an atheist