She’s at a place where she feels trapped As the mist rises and her sun is crying She cant help but feel alone Alone is a place were she’s been forced to feel At home
She cannot recognise a noble deed And allow that memory to take her Instead the fear of being unloved And hardly good enough grip her hand
With every word she is paranoid and annoyed and triggered into retreat into alone a place she calls home
they roll down a familiar face warm and comforting Its because she couldn’t stay She wanted to, believe her
Believe she wants to be a better her But she clings to alone As a familiar face A childhood case That she needs to shake She loves alone but hates it She hates the time it gives her to think About how unfamiliar the un-alone really is
She wants to share but she doesn’t know how She wants to talk but she’ll be misunderstood She wants to love him but she’s making him numb Her sorry self is a burden and the cause of pain. She says she felt rushed but she is here now More in love than he can see And then then there’s the stabbing thought that he wants to be free Now she is comfort crying Alone.
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He put his heart on the poker table ‘he’s all in’ his face grim and unquavering, he thinks he’s able but the cards are stacked against him he plays all moves but the joker beleaguers his fingers they use his mind as a bullet practice board wearing their bullet proof vest so they’re well protected He’d been on a scorching quest for disaster was given a tepid glass of love in return
They said his heart was a Rubik’s cube in a Swiss bank so he pulled the funds out took the risk rather than being a ******* He spends his heart on love, he realises its like a cigarette loaded with regret rather than nicotine so he took a cue, formed his heart back to a Rubik’s cube and put in a Swiss bank in the maze house
I shouldn’t have I guess I forcefully moved my things into your heart on parham street This fool has been celebrating a grubby clean slate He drank a cocktail before the harvest After storing his brain safely in the garbage He asked ‘would you be mine’
I shouldn’t have said I love you first Now realising that was the pistol to your head And i jumped the gun twice and over again This fool stands in awe of his folly He reads his scribbles of idyllic love poems and ******* dovy quotidians Every compelled ‘i love you’ will be overturned My hands over-burned from the blisters Bitter from the bile from every memory Though i took my time, I was patiently ******
I shouldn’t have Now i’m sat here with this lollipop of regret Now knowing that every graphic snapshot was because of that same pistol No wonder why it all seemed strange I used to gnaw about making you feel like you needed to trust me and love me I was yet weary of receiving the blame of every kiss, pause and touch I didn’t realise that the foundation was built on compelled labour I was to quick to celebrate, but now i know what i should have