"It is what it is."
No, we can change it.
"There's nothing we can do now."
No, we can get angry.
we can tell everyone how wrong it was.
we can make sure this never happens again.
"There's nothing left we can do."
Except tell every man, woman and child what happened,
they can learn from our mistakes,
I won't let a single person forget this day.
I will scream my disappointment out at the world,
until my voice breaks.
We are never hopeless,
water can wear down mountains,
and a voice can shake nations.

I've made a point of making the difference
between being in love with someone
and loving them.
Being in love is eating strawberry ice-cream
or holding hands on a walk in the park.
It is the smell of summer,
it is the touch of the sea breeze,
it is waking up from a sweet dream.
But loving,
loving is rainy days spent in between bed sheets,
is it the immaculate silence
you can only share with a heart that beats to the same rhythm as yours,
it is the sound of thunder.
So when you tell me you love me,
I almost want to believe it,
but I look into your eyes and understand
you have no idea what you're talking about.
You're confusing it with fascination, darling,
you're confusing it with curiosity.
You're taking the street lights for stars.
You're taking the depth of the ocean
for familiar territory.
Your desire to figure me out,
to put me together like a puzzle
and the moonlight we shared
had nothing to do with love.

Ink ran down my arm,
followed soon thereafter by blood.

"Don't judge a book by its cover."
but why then, do we cover them with art?

I wish to be bound in leather,
and printed upon so people know exactly what these pages are about.

Dark nights grow darker still,
as sunsets,
black souls turn blacker until,
no light reflects,
all is swallowed whole,
in this blackest of hole.

Denser than suns that once were,
smaller than hearts,
heavier than all burdens,
hanging loosely from heights,
by rope,
pulled down,
taut.

Neck snapped by force,
quick no suffocation or pain (anymore).
But chemicals still diffuse,
ions move across membranes,
impulses move along axons,
molecules are released into synapses,
one last thought,
a regretful one.

This is a test,
I am the subject,
your reasoning is subjective,
you will never complete your objective.
I wont break,
I may seem a little broken but,
I'm just different.
You can't tell the difference can you.
I'm not like you
so I must be defective,
apply your pressures
and try to find the cracks,
but there is no flaw in my system,
I'm a perfect machine,
and I wont stop running.

No,
I'm not running from you,
I just have places to be that aren't here.

See,
I have a life outside this place,
I don't just freeze when the bells ring.

Yes,
I do have friends,
and a family that loves me,
and I have **** to do.

So,
goodbye,
good luck,
good riddance,
your tests are over.

A love unspoken is not a love unrequited.
It's a love unknown, a love unoffered.
A love that goes unshared, is not a real love,
it's an obsession.

I can't stop thinking about her,
but I dare not share a thought.
The sound of her name is like a hand at my throat,
I can't give away my thoughts,
of which there are too many.

Sometimes depression kills what's best in me,
and all that is left is the worst of me,
and now that no one believes in me,
it's hurting me,
because I've hurt you.

I really thought the words were meaningless,
but now I see I was just feeling less,
I'm finding it hard to show you empathy,
because I'm lost at sea,
now that I've lost you.