Come here, baby.
Don't worry.
No one's here to see.
What's left of you.
It's because you followed my taunts I left.

Like the bright red marker ink, you thought was blood after I buried you alive.
Just don't live.
Don't live on a taunt, you little honey bun.
Come and give.
Come and take.

I give no burden.
I give no sorrow.
I give no charity.
I have no burden.
I have no sorrow.
I have no charity.
What I give is the taunt.
What I have is the taunt.

Like the love letter on your desk.
Written in her hand I kissed upon your chest.
My heart pounds like spreading wild fire.
Yet all I see is red,red,red and taunts.

And yet! All you feel is nothing but cold.
Cold like ice.
Upon your frozen cheek.
Where I left the taunt.
Nothing ever before seen.
By a little human being.

Pain pouring out
On our hearts.
Persons shot down ten by ten.
Nothing but tears raining on our heads and guns.
It's not just a heaviness we feel,
It's THE heaviness.

I can't feel my heart.
It makes sense..There's nothing but a hole where my heart should be.
I cry and cry my sorrow for you..
But no tears of sadness come out.
You feel a heaviness.
I feel THE heaviness.

Nothing in the world shall be normal.
"Because it is my name, I cannot live without my name," said John Proctor.
Whatever happened to the name of his heart?

Tears,tears, and rain.
Tears, tears, rain, and storms.
All help us feel THE heaviness.

If there's nothing left in the world
Where would I be?
If there's not even love in the world
How would I feel?
If I can't love him because I don't know he exists anymore
How can I live?
How do I know the way others do.
I want to be normal
But that's not me.
My job for my heart at the moment is to be myself.
Not to blend in.
Just to be the only player in the outfield.

If there's a ***** loose
How do I tighten it?
If my feelings are hurt
Where can I go to get them healed?
Where are my feelings put after I die?
If death is the new beginning the is living the end?
Is it all an unending swirl of nothing that just makes this world, Earth?
Is there anything to be excited about?
What are emotions?

Sometimes I wish ...
that I was totally alone.
Sometimes even dead.
I don't know why.
But I have never gone and purposely pushed myself nor others down.
I have accidentally.
Nothing has ever worked out.
If I try I fail.
If I fail I try harder.
If I'm a natural I get worse.
If it's my talent it fades.

Sometimes I wish ..
That there was never anything in my way to stop me from what I want.
But then I realize that's probably the worst wish ever.
Because then I'm wishing for everything to just go away.

Sometimes I've never wished...
That I could be happy.
I don't want to be happy.
I want others to be happy.
I cry when a strangers hurt.
I sob into my pillow when my friend has been terrified.
But I have never cried for myself.

I guess I'm just too nice...
Because I also wish for people,not me, to be joyful.
Not me because I am no person.

She screams.
In her slumber. That just so happens to not be peaceful.
She yells.
In a corner. Where she just so happens to live.

She has seen too much.
With her already burning red, bloodshot eyes.
She will not blink.
She will not miss what happened.
She shall never forget.

Because she saw it with her once beautiful, but now abused and pained eyes.
She saw it happen right in front of her face.
Ten years ago.
She was five.
She hasn't blinked since that moment.
She's been too scared about what might happen.
If it's frightening just like that day.
She screams but stares deep into the souls of other people.
Her eyes that haven't blinked since that day.


Her eyes are cold and rusty.
Now in dirt.
Hidden in the meadow, right across the street.
What happened to her family has finely reached her.

She's left dead,cold, and lonely looking at the the deep,blue, never ending, once loving and peaceful, crying sky.

The person you think.
That hates you.
Is the one who loves you.
The one you think is in love with you.
Is watching you.
Your friends and family that have been spread like butter on a piece of toast.
Are the ones keeping an eye on you.
The hobo from down the street.
Is the one keeping you safe.

You're the one who hates somebody at one point.
But we love them deep down inside for an unnoticeable tension in the heart.
The one you say that you're in love with.
Is the one you're watching.
You're the family spread out on the map.
And you're keeping an eye on everyone. Not yourself.
You're keeping the hobo down the street safe.
So that makes you the one "just watching" the world.

But it's not "just watching" when you really are looking into every single crack on the sidewalk.
Stalking every person on the planet wanting nobody to die.
Feeling the sand on the beach to make sure there's no glass.

Deep inside you really are the one JUST WATCHING

So just really.
Take a break.
Because then somebody else can do the job too.
They live on the planet too.
You'd think they'd work hard too.

Imagine.
That your true love.
Is trapped.
All you hear is the scream and the pain.
All you feel is the pressure.
And the pain.

Imagine.
That you're stuck.
In nothing but mud.
And that you hear only your cries for help.
And you ask yourself.
"What in the world have I gotten myself into?"

The answer to that question isn't
mud.

The answer is your imagination.