I broke like a ship to rocks,
but I always thought I was the perfect Goldie Locks.
Alas the red did stain my hands.
Alas I had to say goodbye to all my friends.
Alas all torture me,
still,
though now through veins.
But it doesn't matter now,
no one remains :)

Different people sitting in the same seats.
Seats scattered all over the earth.
Earth covered in questions.
Questions filling up my cup.
Cup pouring over, emptying, and overflowing.
Over-flowing life,
made by the simple mind.
Mind is mine.
I made it all my own.
I watch people walk by,
never knowing where they go.
And that's okay.
That's just fine,
cause if I think for myself,
my mind is all mine.

Joey went a running,
with no where left to run.
Joey went a jumping,
grabbing at the sun.
Joey wasn't happy.
Joey had no choice.
People used to hit him,
and no one heard his voice.
Now Joey has left town,
he's no where to be found.
Joey touched the sky,
and crashed into the ground

Always seeing,
always watching.
A close distance.
Like bounds of stars,
close to the eye,
but actually far.
Curious stares
circle the world.
Not really sure
where utopia is,
but being a flower in the wall,
means growing to the sky.
Holding hope like pollen,
and having meet and greets,
with the visitors.
These are the wallflower ways.

Your were right.
I act so pitiful.
You were right.
I am negative.
You were right.
I'm a think in absolutes.
You were right.
I'm like a Sith.

But what do labels really change?
Do they warm you at night?
Even though it is,
you'd never admit my statement is right.

I'm gonna hold back tears,
every freakin' day for you.
I'm put up this always-an-optimist act,
every freakin' time you say to.
I'm gonna laugh,
and never again cry.
Because you say it makes you tired...

I'm gonna hold in my scream,
and smile, never frown.
I'm gonna say I'm a-okay,
while you cut me down,
such a wee-tree.
I don't deserve sarcastic mimicry.

But you don't even need me..
You don't even see me..
So why do I have to..
waste all my freakin' control on you?

If I so much as complain,
about you,
about life,
you stab me with a freaking knife.

What happened?
You were my role-model,
my brother,
my best friend,
my life.

"I know."
Is all I am able to say to you anymore,
because if I strike so slightly,
the rain will pour.

If I was allowed,
   to sit on a comfy rock;
        forever       watch the clock.
               I'd let time fly,
                                            pass me by,
                      long as I could be
                                 me       the whole time.