What is love? Is it a catchy song or an
Overused word or maybe just a dream deferred,
A withered word,
A lonely blackbird just pecking at the eyes of the undeserving.
Love’s hatred of me is unnerving.
I suppose self esteem wasn’t my strongest suit,
A beer gut in college, acne to boot,
And with this realization, heartbreak followed sooth,
And my self-image came out all blurry.
Someone left the darkroom in a hurry.
Compliments don’t make sense,
And that’s just my two cents,
But who really wants to hear that?
I’m filled with useless information because my
Only best friend was a screen.
The internet is hot on the scene.
Tumblr kids felt my pain,
But it wasn’t the same.
If cats weren’t so funny, I’d be dead.
Is it really true? I don’t want to admit it.
The truth sets you free, but I don’t think it did it.
The truth that I face kept me down in this place,
Down into a room full of cider.
Desperation climbs higher and higher.
You’re a butterfly, and I’m a spider.
Say you love me?
Nobody likes liars.
I suppose I’m just sore ‘cause I got lucky for a week
And then, like always, my body was swept
Under the rug.
I take life as it comes,
I roll with the punches,
But the punches are getting to be too strong to bear
And I’m sick of depression’s tight grip on my hair.
You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world,
But you do have some say in who hurts you.
