Yes you are certainly truly;
the forever blameless you.
Not blanched, scared or blemished.
Proudly sweep on through,
the disease and disaster.
here are you: the auteur ,actor,
written, and right.
demonstratively a demon
on a wreck and toll.
A *****-shaper of reality,
Casting a shadow of blight.

You broke my heart once
It was my fault though
I let you borrow it when you had broken yours
It wasn't my fault though
You gave yours to that other girl
It wasn't your fault though
I think she left, thinking you wouldn't mind
It was your fault though

What if my heart was a mistake?
What if this wasn't the heart for me?

What if this was meant for another person,
and I got it by some sort of accident?
What if my heart is out there with the wrong person?
And my other half has found it,
loved it, but got broken in the end
because it was my heart on someone else's?
What if I was never meant to have the heart to begin with?
Because my mind is a dark place where a feeble heart cannot survive.

What if this beating heart in my chest is breaking
slowly, painfully, dying on its own...
Because it was never mine to begin with?

What if I broke it completely?
Of what if I let someone else break it?
Will it hurt as much, even if it's not mine?

I want to know because I can't feel anymore -
All the wounds left ugly scars,
the horrid bruising brought by my own
filthy hands...
*What if it's dead inside and I am slowly
being poisoned, crippled
Until I'm completely numb?

It is all too easy to blame yourself
It is even easier to blame someone else
It is harder to accept the truth, even when the truth is,
You messed up

I've made so many mistakes
That it's hard to have regrets.
I've broken
And been broken.
Loved
And been loved.
Hated
And been hated.
Been lost
And then found.
So much has been learned
So much taken place
So what do I do now?

Make better mistakes.

Saying that I wouldn't,
didn't stop me from doing something I shouldn't

His room stank of narcissism
The kind of aroma I loved
Back then
As he held his knife against
My throat
You're afraid of dying are'nt you

Adrenaline

Knowing of his past
I must act
I show him my arm
Savage marks on my wrist attest
I'm not affraid of dying
I'm affraid of living

He pulls back
You didn't even do it right
Fine you don't have to help me
You'll do it wrong anyway

Funny how psychopaths
End up far away
And I'm still here

I'm not afraid of death
I'm afraid of life

He's not afraid of life
He's not afraid of death

One can say his motto is
'Fear nothing'
While mine is
'Think before doing anything'

What was I doing here?
A sense of significance
Something to think
Profusely about
When one's life depended on it.