I miss the late night drives,
With you by my side-
I miss the late night skies,
With glowing stars like glowing eyes-
I miss the late night highs,
With the bonfire for light.

Oh and how I am now-
With none of the above.
Oh and how I am now-
With Nothing I love.

I just miss the you and the smile,
The rush of love gone wild-
I just miss the hands in the cold,
The warmth of something to hold-
I just miss us naive;
not wise and old.

I don’t have the time though,
To think of these now.
I don’t have the time though,
To wonder about how.

It’ll just be me—
Upset again forever.
It’ll just be me—
Learning to love another.
It’ll just be me—
In the end loving myself.

But then again
          I’m still left
                    With Nothing
                                I love

She paints a pretty picture
she says the nicest things
outside she's always smiling
though demons live within.

She wears the latest fashion
Is surrounded by her friends
She goes to all the parties
but the torment never ends

She always feels so helpless
while alone beneath the stars
She paints a pretty picture
the girl with all the scars.

Evert night at 2 AM
Different poems are written
Different words are scribbled
Different papers are crumpled
But only one thought she had
Yet, word can't help her convey the feelings
"Empty" has much more than herself
"Sad" is not sadder than she thought
"Broken" is more whole than her
"Hurting" ain't just bleeding just like her
And when words can't take the role
It's the blade that play with her
Every cuts has meaning
Everything is her unreleased feeling

nothing hurts more
than the sweet lies
of fake romances
and the wasted time
of too many undeserved chances

s.s