Your cries don't help,
my forgiveness shows no worth.
Push me around like I'm nothing.
New voices are heard and bury mine
and all from the past.
I wonder if this was release for you or for me;
if the fault was yours or mine.
My words were true and actions just.
You just do it for the freeload; the thrill and the rush.
Destroyed, delicate vine,
will you ever be made into sweet red wine?
Only time will tell,
and even then, I will you well.

EDIT:
Actually, you reopened by wounds.
The blood pours out soon,
and there goes my words of mercy.
You know I'll always take you back,
but there will be a time
where I'll finally be sick of your lies.

Life is dull; music bores me.
Dancing is tiring; rhythm can't absorb me.
At least I'm not the only one
who plays these games purely for fun.
Someone held my gun in their hand,
took all the power held within me.
My feet don't control my body
and my mind and soul are disconnected.
I don't feel real, yet I always feel threatened.
This constant cycle is repressive and controlling.

Always looking for a mess.
Two doubles, four causes of trouble.
One never knew how to step out of her bubble.
Collectible memories gazed upon by the heavens.
We missed each other's presence, minds, and laughter.
But with our broken teeth and messed up heads,
we split up and ******* up.
Slowly still trudging through the rain,
some climbed over the mountains,
but I'm still on the polar side.
A racket of only true desire and passion,
but I stayed and never let myself go.
So, I cry here alone,
still sober, but soulless.