Did you have to look at me
with those big brown eyes?
Did you have to stir this in me
that’s killing me now?

Did you know you smell
like summer meadows?
Did you have to leave me
while my heart’s still bleeding?

Do I ask too many questions
or do you just don’t care?
Will I move on with out you
or write another line?

In a little town called Kunduz
a girl has lost her legs!
She searches on the big flat earth
with her tiny little hands.
Would you help this blind would-be ballerina
or would you turn away? And Write like I?

If I told you how happy I am
would you believe me?
Would you let me hold you
and whisper sweet things
into your sweet little ears?

If only you knew
what goes on inside
of me
I bet you’d see me
in a different kind of way

If you saw,
with those big brown eyes.
The words for you,
that are written on my soul,
whispered so often in vain.

I know I shouldn’t feel this way,
And I loathe myself for it!
You seem so **** happy together
So **** perfect!
I wish I didn’t wish
That I could break this pretty little picture!

I look at your smiling eyes, and wonder
If you remember under the bridge
Or maybe under the table?
Now loathing is all I have,
And this pretty little picture
I wish that I could tear apart!

When did love begin?
When did you steal my heart?
When did you imprison it,
behind your beautiful chest?

When did love become so boring?
When was it we stopped talking?
When did *** become routine,
Just another day on the job?

When did love become so painful?
It rips my soul to pieces!
When did it melt away,
That prison in your chest?

I’m not a poet,
But a painter.
I paint pictures with my words
That Rembrandt could not.

I’m not a poet,
But a singer.
I sing out my heart on paper
So my voice is silent but not my words

I’m not a poet,
But an actor.
The paper is my scene
And the manus is written with my tears

I’m not an artist,
But you.
The side of you you never knew,
So I’ll have to wake you up.

When are you planning to give back,
the part of my soul that you took?
Was any part of me ever mine?
Or was I destined for destruction,
By you
My love?

Your beauty itches in my eyes,
While you pass me on the street.
My heart is dead and cold,
I have no lust for any woman,
You killed that part of me,
My love?

Did i ever touch you,
Except for on the outside?
Did you ever wonder,
What was on the inside?
Now i feel dead and abused,
Was it your intention,
My love?