The price I have to pay,
For too many different embraces.
Nothing left to say.
But I’m left lusting as a witness.
Love never comes.
Where can I find it?
If I find someone who feels like home.
Why would I want to hide it?
So I’ll make friends with the moon, as I try not to let the doom consume.
And appreciate the flowers in the sun, as I hope to find someone before I crash, burn and run.

Before the wind wounded me.

Before my petals broke.

Before my roots withered.

Before the cold silenced me.

I was a flower.

Now I am nothing.

Trapped in this sequence. Where can I go next? Lost it all, including what was hidden in my being and my chest. Everything gets stolen, manipulated or contorted. I don’t know what else there is to do instead of finding some order.

Maybe these feelings are more like despair.
But I guess it’s true that no one truly cares.
I want to feel the blade on my skin.
Let it run red and let the sadness win.
What do I have left in this hell ride I call life?
All I ever feel is mostly only strife.
So I guess I’ll spend my time alone with the moon.
It’s only a matter of time until the doom consumes.
I feel haunted or like a burden in every single room.
The noose would be better than this life of tormented doom.

The storm is back and it’s comforting to feel.
I know I should try to heal, but I keep stumbling and this doesn’t even feel real.
So as I try to pick up the broken parts of my being, I’ll try to have hope but for me it’s not something I can fathom seeing.
I guess it’s a godsend that I’m still breathing.
But everything’s so misconstrued that I’m stuck leaving.

Maybe I’m broken but I’m destined to be alone. A once soft heart forced to be stone.  I wish I could leave this place but I have nowhere left to go. But I would take the pain and the sorrow over something with false hope.

Maybe the tides are crashing in.
I wish somehow I could find in me some love to give.
But no one could love such a broken soul.
I guess it was only a matter of time until life took this kind of toll.
My bones are becoming brittle, can I withstand the cold?
Or will I finally find another to hold?
So as I try to light up my world.
I’ll try to fight this losing battle as I hope something beautiful unfurls.