The elite English language
Written or spoken
Sometimes imagined or painted
Cannot fully explain the depth
of a broken heart

I cut the pain away, I cut you off as well
how can I survive, when all I know is hell

I've seen the world burn down, I've seen my self decay
but what should I do, when my reality fades away?

Tell me it'll be alright, tell me the morning is on its way
hold my hand forevermore, and keep the loneliness at bay

The pain rushes in with the tide,
and I feel so alone now, without you by my side
the darkness is whispering sweet dreams of mine,
but what am I supposed to do
when the darkness comes inside?

Touch me with your words, not your hands
come to me naked, even when you're covered
devour my soul, and worship my mind
trace my skin and kiss my battle wounds

Read my story the dancing ink displays
whisper words of salvation into my ear
don't protect me, I know how to wreck
I don't want your gold, only your hand in mine

I haven’t been this kind of empty before.
My thoughts are speeding through my mind,
Passing through and never comes back.

I can’t escape the feeling of addiction,
I want more and more to get away from it all.
Reality is my worst nightmare.

Everytime I wake up
I wanna go back to sleep,
Begging to never wake up again.

I’m stuck,
I got nowhere to go.

I want to stay.
I want to disappear.

I want the good things,
The things that keep my mind occupied from the bad thoughts.

I’m in the middle of chaos,
Between body and mind.

The black ink curves over my
skin like a crouching tiger.
The pain is nothing compared to the open
wound that has settled in my heart.
My guardian angel with no wings
nor halo has given me the emptiness.
He sits on the silver-plated moon,
he keeps her company.

The ink has etched into my skin,
writing down his and my history.
Without him the Grim Reaper would
have harvested my life-flower long ago.

He held his hand over me when
I walked on broken glass.
He hummed lullabies when
the demons screamed their chants.
He wiped my tears away
when the mirror was distorted.
His presence played chess with
the ever oppressive solitude.

Now that he is gone, I am an easy
prey for the lions of the world.
I'm just a bunny,
my vegetables can scare nobody.
But he was also a bunny,
a bunny who fought to the last.
So the least I can do is fight so
he can see he did not fight in vain.

And if I ever feel lonely,
I'll just dive into the moonlight
where he resides.