Someday I’ll paint a mural.
I’ll paint it on one of the walls in my room.
It will consist of your favorite colors,
Your favorite things,
Everything that adds up to you.
I’ll let it dry, I’ll let it show.
I’ll look at it at night when
The vibrant colors begin to glow.
And when I finally build up the courage,
When I get past the days that seem to drag on,
I’ll stand on my own two feet and.
I’ll break down that ******* wall.
I’ll even take a picture of the ruins,
Just for your eyes to see,
That the damage I did to the wall,
Was nothing compared to the
Damage you did to me.

You crave for a “love” that others speak of,
Yeah you crave a fantasy.
So you begin your search,
Putting yourself in several situations,
Until you come across the one,
Who can fill in all the spaces.
Slowly, you begin to make it real,
This dream you crave.
You feel as if everything is in your favor,
Like the world is at your mercy,
To heed ever word you say.
But then you start to notice,
How they begin to open once again.
The wind gushes through,
Ripping apart the laughs, the memories, the faces.
And with it, goes the one,
Who filled in all of the spaces.

Eighteen stories high,
And across my field of vision,
I see a blinking red light.
Though it blinks throughout the day,
It only catches my attention at night.
The world is dark then,
So it illuminates the sky.
To me they’re more than red flashes,
They hold importance in life.
Again, its at night,
When I make it back home
And glance at the world outside,
that this blinking red light reminds me
Of how I survived another day.

That I am still alive.

I see you from here,
And my hands extend to you,
But you don’t see me.

I enjoy talking to my walls.
They’re always there for me.
No matter the time,
They’re always free.

As I talk to my walls,
I feel so comfortable in my own skin.
I’m all my walls ever see,
So to them, I am a king.

They say I ****** her over,
That too many things have changed.
That even though they went and told her,
She refuses to obey.

They say she isn’t getting any younger,
That she’s throwing her life away.
That though they went and warned her,
She continues to walk my way.

They say that I’m a murderer,
That I tore her soul to shreds.
That though they tried to save her,
She only craved the warmth of my bed.

They say that I’m the one responsible,
That I’m the one to blame,
That I’m her only savior,
That I should wash away her shame.
But now I sit and wonder,
How do I keep things from being the same,
If every time I touch her,
She says, “Yeah babe, I love the pain.”

Fingers intertwined.
Such warmth between yours and mine.
Losing grip with time.