they tell me how to live my life and do you know the funny thing about that? the funny thing is, is that they don't know the nights the reasons that's lead to the bags under my eyes
you write letters on my back as you would with paper the words not so fragile as for my skin to shatter would be good for you because the words you wrote are very true
watch the ball of fire slowly trickle into the rubble as the young lady’s smile turns upside down her crystals lay so peacefully upon her cauldron shelf the book in which her spells lay is magic like the stars the candles are dancing with fire around the a big book watch the ball of fire fly above the rubble spitting fireworks into smoke and her frown into a smile
her bare toes touch the wet grass, the bottoms of her feet now covered in mud her feet are the garden growing fresh movements her mind is the water nourishing the herbs
he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not he loves me so I tell him I love him the daisy told me he does too but he doesn't so daisies fade in my mind and rose petals bleed out of my broken heart