Sometimes it's hard to find motivation for even the simplest things,
like lifting my hand to write,
my pen feels so heavy,
like dragging a metal tube over thin dead trees,
the dark blood pouring from my hand
mixes with my tears as they fall to the page,
the blurry letters cry out but I don't recognize them anymore,
so I lay on the floor and try to decide what to do next,
maybe i'll just sleep here,
maybe sleep is whats best.

Why do I ask all these questions
that I can never hope to answer?
my heart only seeks the truth,
but it evades me like love on valentines day,
how do you find what just can't be found?
when my soul shattered all the pieces scattered,
and long sown scars began to bleed again,
the sorrow and sadness set back in,
I remember a time when I was happy,
I could smile as bright as the sun
and have fun without a worry in the world,
but back then I was so young and life so simple,
I didn't know that one man's dream
could be another mans nightmare,
I guess ignorance really is bliss,
because it's easier to smile when you forget about the pain,
but i'd still rather suffer in knowledge,
than be blind in ignorance,
I just wish it wasn't so hard to tell the difference
between what I want
and what I need.