𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒉  
𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.  
𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚— 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚.
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒑  
𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎.

Why am I so unlovable?
Why can't I find happiness?
No matter what I do everyone leaves,
I just want someone to mean it when they say they love me
What makes me unlovable?
Why do people take advantage of the care I give
I feel useless and worthless, I just want to give up so badly
Why can't I find happiness? What else do I need to do to find love

He stares at his reflection
a monster
he says
but is he really?

the more he stares
the more they win
like white noise ringing
through his head

the person he was,
simply gone
broken down
reduced to atoms

mouth taped down
but shouting louder than ever

lost in a limbo of truth
memories fade
seasons change

'man up'
speak up
reach out
your life's a joke
no point of feeling like this?
is he really a man!

One knee
One life
One soul
One son
One brother
One friend
One husband
One father
One grave
One
Last
Breath

You keep telling me words
That I can't understand

Because my brain has checked out
I am no longer there

People keep talking to me
But I can't hear their voice

My head hurts
From all of this warbled noice

My heartbeat has slowed
I wanted to go to bed

But you are stopping me
From resting my weary head