you told me that it would be the way i wanted it,
if i told you what i feel,
and i told you what i feel,
but it's not the way i want it.
to hear my words of admiration is a privilege you did not deserve,
it's too late to swallow them back down,
so i guess you'll win this one last time,
sugar lies.

i find myself thinking of you before bed,
because if i can't see you when i'm awake,
at least i can see you while i'm asleep,
but when i wake,
i find myself wiping away tears with my *******,
because i'm so confused,
lost,
and curious.
curiosity killed the cat,
this i know,
but satisfaction brought it back.
i wish you would bring me back with satisfaction.

the clock in the corner, it ticks and tocks,
i am a walking paradox,
the things i say are never true,
oh don't you wish you knew the truth?
alas, the truth is in front of your eyes,
the way that i act is just a disguise,
and the things that i say are all quite real,
please tell me how that makes you feel.

you promised to be my forever,
so why am i scraping the tattoo of your name off of my skin?

i tried to picture myself without you, but i couldn't.
now here i am without you and i still can't picture it.

i faded into you,
two years ago,
our souls combined,
unknowingly.
i never realized it until you were gone,
now my soul is lost,
and so are you.

with every glance,
with every touch,
with every word you spoke, a piece of my soul chipped,
and fell off into your hands.
over the years you collected every bit of it.
you put that little bit of me in a jar and showed it off to everyone,
and when you were done with it you put it on your highest shelf.
you forgot to give it back.
i've called you several times since then,
begging you to return what you took,
but you were too busy stealing someone else's soul to bother with mine.
when i was a child my aunt told me to chase my soul,
no matter where it took me,
but i've given up with chasing after it,
because it leads me to the same spot every time.
the corner of your highest shelf.

if life is for everyone,
why am i looking up reasons not to commit suicide on the internet?
if life is for everyone,
why does my mother keep the medicines in a locked box?
if life is for everyone,
why do i feel as though i've already died?
i believe that life is not for everyone,
survival is not what i was made for,
i was built upon flowers and honey-dipped words,
i am not meant for the desert,
but the desert is where i was thrown,
i have not adapted to my new surroundings,
nor will i ever,
i can struggle to survive for the rest of my dried out life,
or i can let go,
life is not for everyone.