It began in just a normal year, only two decades too late,
And it ended before it got to start, it must've been fate
And I know, how you'd like to feel when you walk hastily down the street
Look both sides, up and down as you tremble in your feet
We both hated this world, with the heart we claimed to lack,
That's the only thing that didn't change, as we went to turn our back
We both got what we wanted, it just happened to be none
So why doubt myself, I've done what I've done.
I could never really feel what they’d like to call as pain,
Light and dark, oh ***** all that, I could only see chains.
So I write to you, you know not because I'm sad,
Or happy for that matter, unless I have gone mad.
I don't write either, because I miss the thought of you
Why I write to you, my dear, oh only if I knew
Still tell me how much time it takes for your, one day to pass?
In the clouds what shapes you see, as you lay alone in the grass?
How many times have you quit smoking, since we last spoke?
And how many meals are left in you, before you’ll get broke?
Did you finish the novel you wished to write since you were fifteen?
Or do you still space out, whenever you stare deep into your screen?
Do you still wake up late at night, yelling in your dreams?
Answering the wretched questions you heard in your father's screams.
Do you still need me to comfort you, and tell you, he was wrong,
And replace all his silence with my cheap makeshift songs.
As for me, if you care to ask, it is going exactly how you'd think.
I stopped evolving long ago, existing in just the missing link
Between a man, and what you may call, a tattered lost ghost.
3 A.M, closed window and the smell of burning toast.
As coherent as I try to be, I still remain who I am
A broken car on an empty road, stuck in a traffic jam.
Yes I still blame myself, for the faults of the outside world,
As I stare blankly at the night, with my hair in a slight twirl,
And I still have allergies of anything slightly from the past,
I don't look both ways when crossing the road, and I walk a bit too fast
So what else, did I not have to say? i said nothing with all these lines,
Like a dead star, from far away, which for you still somehow shines.
So let me say sorry at first, for everything you don't feel,
When we meet in our next life, I’ll be owing you a meal
Until then, I'll just be a shadow on your wall, 3 past midnight
When the only light in your room is from a broken streetlight.
Mar 18, 2025
Mar 18, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
It began in just a normal year, only two decades too late,
And it ended before it got to start, it must've been fate
And I know, how you'd like to feel when you walk hastily down the street
Look both sides, up and down as you tremble in your feet
We both hated this world, with the heart we claimed to lack,
That's the only thing that didn't change, as we went to turn our back
We both got what we wanted, it just happened to be none
So why doubt myself, I've done what I've done.
I could never really feel what they’d like to call as pain,
Light and dark, oh ***** all that, I could only see chains.
So I write to you, you know not because I'm sad,
Or happy for that matter, unless I have gone mad.
I don't write either, because I miss the thought of you
Why I write to you, my dear, oh only if I knew
Still tell me how much time it takes for your, one day to pass?
In the clouds what shapes you see, as you lay alone in the grass?
How many times have you quit smoking, since we last spoke?
And how many meals are left in you, before you’ll get broke?
Did you finish the novel you wished to write since you were fifteen?
Or do you still space out, whenever you stare deep into your screen?
Do you still wake up late at night, yelling in your dreams?
Answering the wretched questions you heard in your father's screams.
Do you still need me to comfort you, and tell you, he was wrong,
And replace all his silence with my cheap makeshift songs.
As for me, if you care to ask, it is going exactly how you'd think.
I stopped evolving long ago, existing in just the missing link
Between a man, and what you may call, a tattered lost ghost.
3 A.M, closed window and the smell of burning toast.
As coherent as I try to be, I still remain who I am
A broken car on an empty road, stuck in a traffic jam.
Yes I still blame myself, for the faults of the outside world,
As I stare blankly at the night, with my hair in a slight twirl,
And I still have allergies of anything slightly from the past,
I don't look both ways when crossing the road, and I walk a bit too fast
So what else, did I not have to say? i said nothing with all these lines,
Like a dead star, from far away, which for you still somehow shines.
So let me say sorry at first, for everything you don't feel,
When we meet in our next life, I’ll be owing you a meal
Until then, I'll just be a shadow on your wall, 3 past midnight
When the only light in your room is from a broken streetlight.