The paranoia is enough to ****.
To live in fear and jump at every thrill,
even if its off a building to end this illness.
Brick by brick the walls of this foundation falls.
Once a home but now nothing but holes in the walls, just bones of a structure
and I convince myself they're still
good, the bones.
When I close my eyes and open them,
it's you, my reason.
The push for such a life and I, the reason for the fallen hopes and broken dreams.
I am the lost dream.
I am the remedy and the ruins.
I could build an empire and still manage to blow it to pieces and for what?
No such reason than control of an inevitable,
or so I keep thinking.
Is it really control if it's inevitable?
You cant control fate but when you try, you dig your own grave and... create a fate.
This circle i've fallen in is not one
I can get out of anymore.
Ive been crying for a life line when it was
I who cut all ties.
I reach for the stars still, every night, the same routine. Pondering thoughts and what reason there could be for such distruction when all I ever wanted was to live.
I never felt more alive than when I was with you Bella, even if the sickness in my stomach masked it and made you feel rejected.
You are the love of my lifetimes.
I will always leave the light on.
My pieces still jagged yet I still sand them to this day in hopes that the next time you touch me,
it wont hurt.  
I left for you and you never wanted me to make that choice for you.
All this work i've had to do,
all this tape, all this time.
I wanted to be what you deserved and all you wanted was me.. all that came with me.
All the darkness. All the pain.
and I couldn't let you stoop that low.
I think i've made something of these pieces, even if it's just to be a broke/n poet.
I want to be more than a good story.
I want to be more than a lesson,
more than karma, more.
I want to be more.
I want to be yours,
Yet you tell me each time, "nevermore."