tears meet with empty taste
i've forgotten the old flavour
but it's becoming more apparent i can never see my own face
without thinking i could cut myself out of this skin with a grade A knife
if my body is a temple
i often wish i could burn it down to the ground, and watch as the rain washed me away into the rivulets
as the people throw stones at cars i can only imagine them to be my God
slowly skidding to the left, it wonders if it can ever find a way again

theres a hole where my heart should be and its ripping the life bit by bit out of me
no castle to go to, no happiness to hide
no where to seek shelter for the upcoming tide
it's biting and shouting, yet gentle, and it whispers
you're just another lightbulb in the city of stars

When I think of love, I can't see you anymore. My mind takes me back to 2 years ago when I never needed more than to see the curve of your lips because I breathed the air I now swore to never long for again. My sanity still slipping like I always do in love, I tiptoe for nights over the puddles I've cried for you, invisible to the world but they're all I see. I've been trying to forget you.

i've knocked on wood so hard my knuckles turn purple, they wonder why they had to be pawns in my game;
i've broken so many wishbones in hopes of fixing my brittle ones, specifically the knees i've fallen onto every night yelling at god to give me some of the happiness that everyone promises me i'm going to get
i've stuffed so many lucky charms into my mouth and still i only see the hope leaving my body, no luck of the irish for me, no *** of gold despite the burns i get from sliding down the rainbow
it was promised. it was.
i threw so many teeth over the roof that stopping the bleeding when they hit the soil became my new hobby
because which each part of me that i ruined trying to give out to the people who never cut me some slack, i always picked up the wrong end of the blade and sliced myself right back

if luck is real,
i was born on friday the 13th,
i've always been driving in a car without a fuzzy dice,
black cats are constantly crossing me on the sidewalk and i've spilled salt all over these wounds. my first birthday present was a clock and i can't turn back the time, on my wedding day my husband sees me in my dress before the ceremony, when he walks down the aisle he wonders why it had to be me. the shorter end of the stick pokes me in the side and reminds me it's all i ever get.

It was believed Macbeth was a cursed play, plagued by the death of the first Lady MacBeth. Actors were to avoid saying the name in theatre.
The opening lines were,

"When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

I'm afraid my life has been all three

I find refuge in pure darkness of an abyss
Or drenching sunlight that comes down in spills
I don't know what it means to hide in the covers of shadows
Or reflections like a saving grace in the dark
Grey has never been in a word under my sun;
I have always been too much
or too little
For the broad shoulders of others to bear

I don't know your name yet
but one day I'll be in love with you
So take care of yourself,
and give yourself away
because our stars will collide
and you'll be where you are meant to.