I'll give you something to cry about!
I'll give you a transcript of all the things you said

a record of all the things you did
a clever recollection for you to look at

after you're done looking at my corpse.
I'll give you a mistress and traumatic time,

I won't, however, give you custody of the kids,
or even allow visitation.

I'll be a cruel *******, and give you a miserable life.
My plan was to get you hooked on money,

and my stupid ******* personality,
dictatorship and addicts withdrawal are sure to ensue.

Miss. Elizabeth Ann,
I'll give you a good time,

only until I find someone different.

Top hats and bow ties
sweet heart candies and deep red dresses

a meaningless fantasy that I should've never had,
not with you anyways.

Frizzy hair underneath grey fedoras
and bright eyes below dark eye lashes and excessive amounts of eyeliner.

This is life now,
me with my caked on makeup and poorly died hair

tea and nose rings.
Strangely enough, I think they go together well.

Teenage years and a different sexuality,
drivers license and a new gender.

Small crisis and a big smile,
fake laughter, and very real tears.

What a year.
What a year

yes, there might have once been a bitter sweet boy
but have you ever heard of the honey eyed girl?

the one who made the bitter boy better?
the girl with splinters in her palms, and pine needles in her hair?

yes, there may have been a bitter sweet boy,
but did you hear about that sweet little child
who spoke softly of sweet taffy and maple syrup like it was their savior?

yes there might have been a bitter sweet boy,
but have you heard of the boy who was so much easier to like?
the quiet one who sat in the back
who never knew who in the **** he was?
the boy who wasn't dark and mysterious
and didn't have his sights on hurting you for ever thinking to ask how he was
did you ever hear of that boy?
the sweet one?

i feel like dirt on hands
constantly brushed off
washed away with sorry excuses and their *******
antibacterial soap they think smells so good

i feel like that poor confused girl
the one in that book that was never very popular
always making the wrong decisions and having the wrong ideas
such a silly girl
such a stupid girl

i feel left out
like a lamp post in the wind
ragged and worn,
but still ******* standing
still trying to light up the street that it's mind long ago abandoned

it's almost as if just giving a person a promise to hold onto
is like giving them thin air
strange,
isn't it?
that promises meaning absolutely nothing
even after we put so much behind them

hey it's kind of a *****
isn't it?
together for two months
practically a record for us two
and then you give up
just kind of stop trying
start flirting with that girl i told you i didn't like

it's kind of a *****
isn't it?
when you date a girl with her own mind
must really ****
when you can't change me
to do what you want
that must really ****

okay, i'm tired of fighting now
tired of not being with you

i'm over this
pull your **** together
please

i'm tired of avoiding you
tired of pretending that i'm not hurt
not scared to be away from you

okay, i'm over this
tired of being mad at you

it's catching up to me
that bad feeling
that knowing that she could be with you right now
it's spreading in my chest

i'm actually ******* feeling it
almost crying in class
isn't it great?
i don't think so
i bet you do though

you're probably sitting there mad at me
for actually caring
probably mad at my thought process that those texts were you cheating
i'm over this
please come back
come back when you don't love her
when i'm the only one on your mind

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."