I've got some bad habits.
I always feel bad,
My family hates me,
And I've never been rad.
Most my friends have been to rehab.
But I like my bad habits.
I'm made of bad habits.
Waking up once a day,
Wasting all my talent,
Sleeping all day,
Thinking all night.
They're all bad habits.
I've always been made of bad habits.
Never had a reason to feel glad,
Too empathetic or apathetic.
Had to quit school cause I went mad,
I tend to love being sad,
and I've never had a dad.
I have some bad habits,
But I love my bad habits.
I love too much,
I'm too alone to have a crush,
And I'm always out of luck,
But I still try anyways.
And they're my bad habits.
I am my bad habits.

i'm getting tired of it.
not in an angry way,
it's just taxing,
to do this one-sided back and forth.

echoes of ****** ghost town mysteries
  devolving into our lonely synergy
where we can constantly misdemean each other in our gutter schemes
of battling anger with dreams,
  never again to split the seams,
   never again to be seen

please, hear my plea.
i never knew what we could or couldn't be.
  i just wish you could see me
   i am what you almost are and yet everything you're not,
tie my tongue, twist my heart, knot it up and let it rot

"maybe i'll get shot" we stockpiled musings on dying young,
seemingly out of all the time we thought we bought
you are an alleyway thought bay,
  forever haunting me enough to keep all my other ghosts away

  "the world is ending in all my dreams"
  i crushed what i had left of you, you'd never let me stay
we were a walking paradox, never nothing,
always but a dream never to be siezed

"we"
what a lonely synergy