****
****
****
****

well,
I blame me 
if you feel empty,
It wasn't supposed to hurt
like you are now,
So what.
I wasn't there 
no, I didn't feel a thing
and it wasn't like it was
meant,
to be.
Why cry,
When you lose,
All you make,
Every time you break down.
Again,
I'm sick as can be,
Without it
And I'm just trying not
To faint.
Today.

He found it hard to talk to folks
Said his life was just a joke
Had nothing to forget
Just people to forgive
Well they know they've done him wrong
Says **** **** them all
He had a girl named Susie Lou
She hung herself and climbed out the door
He had needles and a pen
to feed the thought that lie within
he didn't care he didn't feel a thing
But that's impossible

I feel the friends
I never quite knew
Helped me the most
But given the news
I don't care
I feel like ****
I lie on the floor
Get out of my way
I'm a waste
I wanna escape
And then I might know
I was afraid

The night
The sun
In east
In nest
I lay awake
You sleep the best

No, I am not an artist
I'll never know what art truly is
it comes in a form:
Now, familiar and clean
No longer is it the one I love,
Its copycatted, dry, walled and closed
It stares me in the eyes,
amused at the fact
That I will never be an artist
For I see
Noting will ever be art again