I lost my true love
once she found my true self,
I keep thinking life is improving,
before I'm under the rubble again.

And I'll miss you,
I already do.

I realised that I loved you
and it felt like hands around my throat.
When you had already left the room,
all freedom of my heart did too.

You see, I had nothing left but you.
But you and my assorted maxims.
Now, I've been leaked to the press,
all of my scales have been shown
to the blue-light;
now, all that is left, is nothing at all.

The happy mask, the happy face
The only one with love and grace
The lonely heart, that empty place
Still had no room for sour distaste

To put up an act they asked of him
To delve in hate and partake in sin
'If you don't dance to our squalid tune;
darkness looms, there's danger soon.'

His soul was pure and spotless clean
He'd never go where they had been
But he couldn't lose, he couldn't win
He was giving up, he was giving in

The curtains then came crashing down
The forewarned pitch dark all around
Those cruel cads, those savage hounds
Ended the broken story of the broken clown

there is an ache inside of me;
it occurs somewhere between the
moments of waking and sleeping.

there is something about letting go
that makes it so hard to do.

i am afraid to close my eyes.  
i am afraid to turn out the light.

i will prolong the inevitable as long as possible,
battling against the drooping eyelids,
battling against the heavy sighing.

another day is gone.
another tick mark on the wall.

i have done nothing.
i will remember nothing--in a few days, at least.
i will become nothing (but an empty shell, i'm assuming)

wasting  away
in the confines of my bedroom.
too afraid to go outside;
having grown so used to being alone
that the thought of spending time with another
does not even occur to me.

there is something so frightening about that thought.