Love becomes a crime,
Suicide letters in my
Free time.
Razor blades are the
Only friends of mine.
My misery tastes like
The blood cut from
My veins.
I feed the sickness
That becomes my
weakness.
So, watch me cry myself
To sleep, and dream
Of what could be...

Kisses become tears,
Love is swept away,
like the dust,
unwanted and forgotten.
Silence is the key,
to bring your heart
back to me.
For so long we have demanded change,
but for now we remain.

Memories become a blur,
The mirror does not
Recongnize this girl.
Water displays no
Reflection. All that I
Used to be was
Drowned in the land
Of the lost.

I could feel each thick curl of my hair unraveling,
from top to bottom.
I could feel the strange sensation
of butterflies in my stomach.
I was warm with serenity,
and yet somehow cold with doubt.
Never had I been put in such a position
that made me lust after love, so intensly.
My heart ached with the thought of losing him.
And my body shook with slight jealously,
and pain whenever he turned
to look in anyone else's direction.
I wanted to tangle myself in his web,
to be so close to him, as close as humanly
possible.
All I could ever want is nothing more than being in his arms, in his heart, forever.

Love can be...
as destructive as hate,
If it is used by one,
In such a way to
Bring pain to another.

You can paint a pretty picture,
with blood and tears.
Screams echo through out my mind.
You silence the ghost of my soul,
as you rise with the darkness.
You are the length of my sorrows.
You know the extent of my tears.
You hold my heart in the palm of your hand.
It's punctured, and bruised,
bandaged, and taped, on the verge
of falling apart.
It is pieced together by what
is left of hope.
If love isn't enough to heal us,
but is the cause of every break
than surely hate is not alone.
Love can be just as evil,
as to watch us cry
ourselves to sleep, every night.

There are two sides of this agony,
In which both guide me to misery.
I want him to know it hurts me.
I want him to know why.
But I do not want to lose him,
Despite my pain it would only hurt worse,
If I were to know he'd never hold me
in his arms again.