one day you'll ask me why
i hate the smell of beer,
and i'll have to tell you
it filled the air when he hit her,
then you'll notice
how i avoid red wine,
and i'll look away to say that
she reeked of it when she screamed at me,
you'll pick up on
how much ***** makes me gag,
and i'll be ashamed to tell you
i washed it out of my hair at 3 am while sobbing,
i'll push away jack
and you'll be sure to ask why,
and i'll cry and tell you
i can't remember why i hate it,
that i can't remember much at all

and then you'll know who i was
when i wasn't me

Her beauty was natural with the volume turned up
She was music only I could hear
My headphones for lonely nights
A bass line that echoes my heart

Her only genre was making me smile
A one person concert every time we spoke
She needs no instruments just her lips
The only amp she needs is her soul

Cover art was the pretty dresses
Song names days we spent
The duration of an album was each season
And I wanted the summer single to never end.

The curse of feeling
Is also deceiving
For I am always grieving
The loss of never achieving

It's hard living with a fragmented brain
The sad truth is we're all insane
And one day we will fall like rain
To deal with stupendous pain

My very being a damnation
Pleasure of life lost its sensation
To numb it all a temptation
Would be an end to this narration.

A warrior with clean armour
Has not seen real battle
He bares his fangs
But bares no scars

A bladeless sword
All for show
A conversation piece
For cowardice not war

A rusted knight
With a heart of gold
So cumbersome
It became a curse

A war for wimps
A social life battle
Casualties of black sheep
Are the real fallen soldiers.

Listen
Hear how the pitch varies yet stays constant
Silence permanently halted by that
Which processes it.
We are forced to mould pain into peace,
Sleep forced into the lack of,
There's no cure.
There's no remedy for calamity.
No homemade soup
or store-bought pills.
We who are diagnosed are dissidents against the police of
silence.
Listen now.
Hear the perfect consistency,
A straight line
in one ear out the other,
Like a power line from one pole
To the next.
It hurts.
A string of pain connecting each ear drum,
making sure that well notice if it misses a beat.
Sadly for us,
It never will.