I'm a murderer I've stabbed my own heart. I'm a thief I've stolen my own happiness. I'm a liar I've told myself how much better things would be. I'm a slothful woman I fell asleep. I'm greedy I've eaten my own pain. I'm hungry Just not for sin again.
We find flaws in everything we see because nobody wants to write about perfection, even though sometimes we wish we could just stay staring into that unblemished surface.
2. We are never satisfied.
We live our lives upon mountains of scrunched up bits of refill and ideas we gave up trying to express.
3. We never forget.
We write words about eye contact made three months ago that we replay over and over in our minds even though it stopped being relevant.
4. We are fickle.**
Our emotions flash from one to the other like strobe lighting that disorientates us until we feel as if the world will never be still.
5. We are exposed.
We don't know how to keep our feelings to ourselves so we'll write them down for you to find 'accidentally'.
6. We are vulnerable.
We wear our hearts on our sleeves and won't lift a muscle to fight back if somebody tries to break it because we thrive from the pain.
7. We will never stop.
We will never stop feeling and we will never stop hurting, we will never stop breaking and bleeding and loving even though the cycle is endless and we know what's coming next.
We are addicted to agony, but we agonise for the art.
There was something wild in her Something corrupted Something destructive I often wondered if there was a fighter plane soaring high in her skies Fighting to defend something precious.
There was something wild in her Something loud Something overwhelming I observed her in her calmest state and watched as she demanded power from the others But in the most manipulative way, where you would never know it was a command.
There was something wild in her Something loving Something passionate I was blessed to lay with her from time to time. I wanted her heart for all of these reasons, But she was too wild for anyone.
Broken and barren. This frostbitten air haunts my Soul; I'm going mad. And I'm not sure if it's the Change in the weather Or The changing time, Or The change in me that Is So Unsettling.
I tell you it’s dark inside You say turn on a light I say it hurts my eyes I’ve gotten use to the dark I can feel my way to my heart And lay down on its surface I can tiptoe my way Around hopelessness Slip on a few things But not fall But you’re still new to it You still trip on my Newly discovered fears Still drown in my overwhelming Sea of sadness You've gotten bruises From slipping on my silence You have fallen on my weariness And I’m sorry I never meant for it To swallow you too Loving you makes a difference But you can't fix a **** With nothing but a twig You can take a horse to a spring But you can't make it drink You can love me all you want But I have to learn To love myself Enough to turn on the light I will try to ease my eyes to the light But fire eventually burns out Even candles know that I’m sorry I’m not okay I wish I was If only it were To be well enough To look into your eyes And not feel like I’m drowning To be able to feel The trace of your hands on mine And not wish you didn’t have to Feel the scars I’m sorry I’m not okay I really wish I was If only to be able to tell you How much I love you Enough to not die for you Enough to live with you