Hometown cutie
You've got the best of my attention
Send all those haters to detention
You've got my retention
So i'm going to pay attention
To your needs, wants and desires
If only you listen.

Keep your friends close
And your Mountain Dew closer.

A man who doesn't feel any emotions
So he doesn't destroy another person with emotions.

I have no intention of hurting anyone
Or making them feel pain in their beating hearts
But i seem to accidentally tear them apart
God help this poor soul of mine
I'm not trying to buy time
I'm just hoping you'll understand what i'm trying to say
How many times do i have to mess this up?
I'm so sorry i'm this ravaging idiot
I hope you can forgive me, God
I hope i can forgive myself
I hope they can forgive me
I carry toy guns with bullets
Expecting foam bullets
I'm just a man who wants peace and love
I am flawed to the core
I'm not sure if i can take this much more
It's usually another day in the office to feel this way
But i always get one of those rare days
Where everything isn't feeling my way
I'm on my knees, praying for some solace in my adventure.

I remember those words
A rushing wave of euphoria rushes over me suddenly
I am now revived.

An army of slashers and taunters
Only two hands to halt in silence

I will
write love on her arms
so many and so deep
that it courses through her veins
and into her
heart.

I will
write love on her arms
so she can stop hurting
even though she loves the pain
which is the
hardest part.

I will not
stop loving her,
even if she lets me go,
because through all of this
I'll let her know she is loved
by everyone she knows.

I will not
abandon her in her darkest times of need
I will not however
be her knight in shining armor
gallant and proud
on a strong new steed.

She will not know that
this lowly peasant
comes from a nothing more
than a small house
with nothing to call my own.
Where the hardest part for me
was finding a different dial up phone.

So she walks,
so she talks
and seems okay,
but as her friend
who loves her so,
I want her to walk away.

From the pain
the sadness,
the misery,
I want her to walk on her own,
and far away from me.

I am her crutch,
but I am not her life,
and alas poor Yorick,
she is not to be my lovely wife.

But still I shall
keep her lifted up, safe from all harms
if only for a chance
to write love
all on her
arms.

Instead of worrying, I listen
Turn off the endlessly pouring spout of inner monologue flooding my senses
and listen

There is music in silence, a kind of symphony made by the absence of what could be there and yet
What is not

He made sure to show I belonged to him.
And of course his trade mark,
was a bruise.