They don’t know that they will all
die
in the end.

I have to write my pieces in
pen,
because when the ink runs
freely
my ideas run freer.

The ideas pop up
randomly.
I’m never able to catch them in time
Especially when I’m in my
“emo” mood.


“You don’t know what it’s like...
welcome to my life.”

Actually, Simple Plan,
I do.
Welcome to MY life.
Its not that
no one know or understands.
They just can’t tell
depression from
wanting attention.
And they’re all idiots for it.

“For a second I wished the tide
would swallow every inch of this city,
as you gasp for air tonight...”

I really do hate this place.
But do i really want everyone to
die?
I want to die.
That doesn’t mean everyone has to
go with me.
Even though someday,
I WILL go out with a
bang.
But not yet.
Oh, how I wish the
Anthem Of Our Dying Day rang
true.

“I know the world’s a broken bone
but melt your headaches, call it home.
Hey moon, please forget to fall down;
hey moon, don’t you go down.
You are at the top of my lungs,
drawn to the ones who never yawn.”

Yes, moon,
please stay up.
I want to dream
forever,
never have to face
reality.
I send my love back to you,
Northern Downpour,
even if I’m missing the point
entirely.
Of course I want to melt my
headaches,
but how am I supposed to call this hell a home?
Home is where the heart is.
My heart broke,
so I threw it away.

“All I ever wanted
was love.”

Me too, Christopher Drew
Me too.