There are two types of people
The heart breakers, and the broken-hearted
I cannot be the heart breaker
It pains  my body, as fear pulses through my veins
knowing i will be broken again
You ripped the muscle from my chest
And left a scar that bleeds each time
you kiss her, touch her, think of her
don't kiss me, don't touch me, and don't think of me
It aches and aches
Why have i let you break me?
There are two types of people
heart breakers, and the heartbroken
how can you destroy me by loving her?
How can you break me and remain unshattered?
Why can i never be the breaker
Ripping the souls form others chests
Turning their advances into worthlessness
turning their love into loathing
turning their hearts to stone
like you did mine.

I am bothered by the slaughter
That her hands had cost her.

"I swear this time
Is the last time."

all we have is tonight
we have no time left
lets explore
lets make love
while we still can
because the clock is ticking
and my heart is
doing the charleston
while trying to breakdance
and all i can think about
is how i might never see you again
and how that will affect me
and if it will even affect you
i never know why
but i never think the person i love
really loves me
and they never think
that i love them
even though i would do anything
just to see them smile
just to hear them laugh
even if all we have is tonight
even if there is no time left

lying to myself
staining the covers of books
who were made to care

When...
The door closes,
Alone in the dark,
Lost for words,
Without a hope.
I wait for the reassurance
I am worth more than a text.

When...
Dripping down,
Water comes too fast,
Streaming from my eyes.
I am too vulnerable.

Is it sadness
                        When I feel
                                                Nothing at all?

Nothing but lies and untruths.
Nothing gentle ever meant.
Nothing but pure lies.
Lies of love. Lies of caring.
Lies of accepting. Everything a game.
Everything seen as wrong doing.
Everything pushed down farther and farther.
Always left defenseless.
Always buried alive.
Always underappreciated.
Never knew the truth, Never been perfect.
Never known to any worth.
Left stripped of humanity. Left being a different person.
Left to live a dead life.
Unaccepted.
Unaware.
Untruths.
Nothing but lies and untruths.

I've always heard people saying that the eyes are the windows to the soul. My windows aren't windows at all. They are steal doors bolted shut from the inside. Behind the doors, is a little girl with the looks of innocents. screaming and kicking she fights, her little weak body is no match for the metal chains and latches, holding her in place. so much pain is held within each scream and cry poured from her mouth. No one coming to her rescue. no one caring about each cry for help. So chained up she will remain inside of these so called windows that we call eyes.