I fall to easy
Am I too kind
Life gets greasy
But I don't mind

My heart thrown out
Into the fields of war
A healing hand
Wanted forever more

A soft hearted fool
Played by the game
In a world of cruel
You'll never leave the same

Pain of the street
I'll take the chance
Of being fresh meat
There is dormant peace, just take a stance

The world's in our hand
It's all up to us
Together we band
For the right and the just

Don't say nice things after I die.
Don't write a pretty eulogy of what I meant to you.
Don't go on and on with words I won't hear.
Don't wait til I'm gone.
Say them now.
And I'll try to heed my own advice
And do likewise.

One time I lost my way,
Two times I accepted your apologies
Tree times I threw away too much of myself,
Four times I forgot the name I once carried,
Five times I loved far too well,
Six times I wrote poems for forgiveness,
Seven times I produced false promises,
Eight times I shared nights with empty bodies,
Nine times I gave away everything,
Ten times I let myself remember

Just until today
I have come to understand
that my cause is all lost
that I live in a fog

Broken hearts I have seen
But none of them I have cured
I have borrowed an ear
But all I get is solitude

Just until today
I have come to understand
that I was born for those whose cause
whose path whose love seems lost

I've been the activist of the confused
I've hugged the fear, the tear the torn
I've kissed their lips when they've approved
I've watched them go... and never return

I regret sleeping on that couch.
I was never very good at sleeping alone, and sleeping on that couch only made it worse.
Maybe that's why I clutch my pillow at night like my life depends on it.

A pounding headache is all I'm left with while my battered soul still remains there on that couch.
But it's time that I take it back.
It's time that I make a trade.
An eye for an eye, they always say.

So its time that I step out of my perfect fantasy and face reality, because I've become a ****** human being from searching for perfection and love.
We all know we can't obtain it.
I created my own hell, building blocks made out of self loathing, self pity, anger, the list goes on and on.
But every hell must freeze over.

That couch I slept on?
It's in my own mind, residing in the hell I created, smack in the middle of the thousands of hands that grab and choke and claw.
It's right in the middle of my inner demons.

I may still be sad in the morning, if I wake up...
But I'll sleep better knowing that I accepted the past.
Even if I still regret sleeping on that couch.

So,
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I know that my soul is mine to keep.
But if I should die before I wake,
I know that all of my struggles were not a mistake.

i guess you could say i'm successful
i guess you could say i have potential
i guess you could say i have a bright future
but at what cost?

if your life is
pouring over endless pages and
vocabulary words
saturday classes and
the endless typing of monotonous papers
are you really living?

i want to be like the girls
who wear tight dresses
and drink too much on friday night

i want to point to a place on my map
pack up my things
and make new adventures

i want to feel the exhilaration
of falling through life
with no idea where i'm going to end up

i'm so tired of being
sensible
i want to be alive