A real hero is not someone
who is stronger than a lion
or tougher than a mountain

He is not one who is fearless of nothing
The one who fights for the glory of himself or the throne

He is not the most handsome of all
or the cleverest, or smartest

That is not a real hero

A hero doesn't always get the beautiful maiden or the treasure
He learns from his mistakes, but never gives up trying
He has flaws, but never lets them slow him down
He isn't the strongest, or maybe the prettiest,
but it's what's inside of his heart
that wins the battle

He will be scared of what's to come
But when he fights, he fights for us

It won't matter in the end
Who is the strongest
or the toughest
the bravest
smartest
prettiest

A true hero
is a person
just like you, and I

hell must be empty
the demons are all here

they live inside of the shell of me
they have been for years

kicking my stomach

tossing my heart

twisting my mind

their silence is deafening
it's worse than my scream

hell can be empty
the demons are all here

they play around in my eyes
and make me believe what i can't see
they trick me into hearing what i want
and make me need what i glimpse

they help me deceive people
hurt people
break my heart while trying to crush others

hell should be empty
the demons are all here

they're darkness and ropes
my blades and my nooses
my tears and my blood
my powder and my pills
my guns and my ammo

hell could be empty
the demons are all here

they help me scare people
to betray them in any way
because they say "no one cares"
and i can't help but believe them

so when i say run away
get away fast
you must do what i want
or your heart won't last
i'll push you away
build concrete walls around me

so the demons can't hurt you




nor



i



can




hell is empty
the devil is right here

Most people can't see
within the walls of one girl
They could easily find
the mask of dust and gloss
and the smile they believed
was real
They could easily find the
sticker of happiness
plastered across her eyes
like a bandage to the world
And the reduced puffiness around her eyes
the coal like a dark seal from tear streaks
and pain

But not me

I could see the hurt that lay beyond the lies
the everlasting broken mirror behind her face
The tremble in her lip when someone castes a glance at her,
marveling her fake beauty

I could see the way she pushed the plate of food across the table,
acting though she already had much, when she had none
Her eyes changed from a swirl of blue and green, to a dark setting
of brown and black

But I remember the way it use to be before
A twinkling laughter or joy
not given or strained
A spark in her mind that glowed through
the wondering colors of her eyes
And the perfect smile she use to wear
The one not so blistering white and forced
But the one with a meaning, with a purpose for show

Before all this plastic and smudge
All the tortures of today, she was truth.
Now, all are left are lies and a hollow case of herself

And could we really blame her?

I never said you looked pretty
I never said you looked nice
You never looked good
You never looked beautiful

You looked like art


And art is suppose to make you feel.