What if I told you I smoke cigarettes to slow my heartbeat and **** my stress?
What if I told you I smoke canabis to take away my pain that has built up over the years?
What if I told you I take pills to numb the pain that is this hell hole I call my life?
What if I told you I drink to suppress the long days and the tireless cries?
What if I told you I'm more broken than I let in and that's why I do all these things I know will slowly **** me?
What if I told you that there's a reason for all of this that is bigger than anything you could understand?
Would you believe me or would you leave like everyone else?

And maybe it's true when people say you                                get used to pain.
Because I'm comfortable knowing you'll never love me.
Even though that is the greatest pain I'll ever know.

"Why do you love me when I do not love you?"  He asked me one summer night
"Why do you love the color red so much?" I asked him as he lay next to me.
I watched as he said he loved the fiery feeling it gave him, he felt like it showed a spark igniting.
"Okay, and why do you love the color yellow so much?"
"I look at it and it makes me happy, it lets me know that everything will be okay." He replied
"Why do you love the color white so much"
He said it was pure and good, and it brought him hope of a new day. He loved the simplicity.
We sat and sat, and then the boy asked. "What do my favorite colors have to do with you loving me when I do not love you?"

"Because darling, until you the only color I saw was blue. You showed me a rainbow and for that I will always love you.

Your touch was so light.
Yet it is my heaviest burden.

And I'll admit, my heart was cold until you showed me warmth.

Strange things go on when the day is done,
When I sleep they're in my dreams.
These dreams are scary, weird, and gross
Everything's not as it seems..
These dreams have come with peculiar things,
But the worst that I can recall...
Is in my room, under the moon
A little girl hangs from the wall.
Now she was weird, and it may sound queer,
That she wanted to die.
Why that is, only she knows
But she sits on the wall and cries.
Now she was scary with scars all down
The perimeter of her face.
She makes me scared to see my wall,
For she's always in the same place.
She'll cry blood and her eyes will turn black.
And once again I'll  pray the haunting girl never comes back.