You are the sun in my eyes,
As I cross the road,
You make my life a gamble,
A toss of the coin I regret not giving to the beggar because of some ******* excuse I made up to ease the guilt,
Warm on my skin, you're fire to my cornea,
Nothing but a beautiful distraction,
But then, I don't look away...

You're my life in tatters,
The angry landlord I'm too broke to pay,
You're the food that is ash in my mouth and cement in my stomach,
You're not good for me, but I'd be worse without.

I tell people I don't have an addictive personality,
Without really understanding what that means,
I've never been dependant on drugs or alcohol,
A month ago I could say with pride that I'd never held a cigarette between my lips,
A month ago suddenly seems like a long time...

I don't rely on anything,
Another lie.
My addiction is my attraction,
My distraction,
As soon as the feeling blooms,
I condemn myself,
To nights in the dark,
To nights spent alone,
Wishing they weren't.
Do you think of me,
As much as I think of you?
Does anyone think of me in the same magnitude as I do them?
I doubt it.
I'm a thinker,
Who wishes he weren't,
I struggle with it,
With the power play that is my sanity,
I produce thoughts but I do not control them,
They control me,
Or they would if I gave them an inch.

My mind is a battlefield,
Strewn with corpses and bullet casings,
Trenches and craters,
I'm stuck in a war with myself,
I'm always on the losing side.
Losing...
I'm losing it,
Losing friends, losing respect,
Losing myself in my fears.

Who the **** do you think you are?
To smile at me like that,
You have such a beautiful smile...
Get out of my head!
There's too many of you in here already,
Fighting for space,
Fighting for the hell of it,
Peace is something I remember,
But I haven't felt it in awhile,
Anger is something I know,
Burning my throat,
Bringing forth gouts of flame,
In words meant to harm,
Meant to hurt,
I want you to hurt,
Like I hurt,
Like I burn,
A walking inferno,
Won't someone ***** me out?

When I was young,
A toddler,
I pressed my hand to the glass of the fireplace,
And I felt pain,
And I screamed,
And my parents were there in an instant,
And I was cared for.

When I was in my teens,
The war was in it's early days,
I pressed a lighter against my skin,
And I felt pain,
And I felt calm,
And I gasped,
And no one was there to tell me not to,
And no one cared.
And I did it again,
And once more.

They say scars tell stories,
And I guess that's true,
But no one wants to listen to mine,
And the ending is always the same,
I'm nothing but a cliché,
And I guess that makes you one too.

I'm sick of myself,
And I'm sick of you,
And I'm sick of worrying about you,
And I'm sick of worrying about others,
And I'm sick.

I'm alone,
In a crowd,
Don't you dare say you understand,
We think differently,
Feel differently,
You understand nothing of what I'm going through,
I wish you ******* did.

I'm there for you,
Safety netting should you fall,
Once the dangers passed,
And you don't need me,
I'm packed away and forgotten,
Until next you take to the tightrope.

I've been thinking of rope lately,
And dizzying heights,
And free fall,
Where's my safety netting?
If a tree falls in a forest,
And no one is around to hear it,
Does it make a sound?
If I jump off a cliff,
In the middle of nowhere,
And no one is around to hear it,
Will I make a sound,
When I hit the ground?

Would anyone care?
I doubt it.

I'm terrified of the prospect,
The idea,
The monster tapping on my window,
Gnarled bark or gnarled nails,
Carving into my skin,
You're stripping me bare,
I'm baring my teeth,
Wolves at the door,
You're knocking on my door like a Jehovah's Witness,
Like you have something to preach of,
Like I'll give you the time of day,
Which I will,
Every single day,
You find yourself knocking on my door.

A let down sick of being let down,
Sick of getting up,
I'll lie in the dirt,
In the reawakened realisation that I'm not worth the time
Until lies give me the strength,
Or false hope to climb to my feet again,
Just to be let down,
And ***** my back once more.

You are a golden ticket,
For a false lottery,
That I keep buying,
You are tails on a two-headed coin,
I bet on every time,
I bet you won't bail on me the next time,
We make plans to see each other,
If only you saw what this was doing to me.

Like a nail in downpour,
I corrode,
I rust,
Like the abandoned bicycle.
Like a match,
You strike me,
You set me burning,
And you throw me away.

I'm but a child's art project,
A roughly hewn mess of emotions and cheesy metaphors,
Barely held together by carelessly applied superglue,
By an overestimated excuse of willpower,
By a towering fear of falling apart
And not having a rug big enough to sweep myself under.

Through all these thoughts,
Fears and imaginings,
These facts,
These fractures,
I endure.
I always will.