I'm not the same
I've been destroyed
I've gone insane

The struggle I have
Figuring out why
I've become this way
How did I allow this

It was somewhere between
Each different heartache
That removed every bit of me

Those no longer in my life
That easily walked away
Without a good bye
A reason why
They robbed me
Pieces of my heart they stole
That day they walked away

I've gone insane
I've been destroyed  
I am not the same

These thoughts can't be mine
They're way out of line
Smile during the day
Crying at night
Yelling why

I don't know to get by
Each day I struggle
Questioning why
Begging for it to end

Smiling is no longer easy
My laughs are short
I don't speak anymore
Sleeping doesn't help
Neither does eating

Drugs are a remedy
But only temporarily
Even those
no longer help

Laying wide awake
Remembering why
I've been destroyed
What's made me go insane
To make me not the same

The answers vary
There are so many


I'm not the same
I've been destroyed
I've gone insane
There's no way back

They love the mask, but I can't breath through it's lies
They love the mask, but I can't see through it's eyes
They love the mask, but I can't speak with it's tongue
They love the mask, but I can't hear when it's on

No matter how many people try to ask.
I make sure they never get a glimpse behind the mask.
Because i am afraid that they will hate me for my past.
If they do i feel i will go straight into an outcast.
And i am afraid that i will be all alone.
I know i can't handle living this life all on my own.
So i make sure the mask is on tight.
But will it last until I go into the light.
What if it breaks, its hiding so much it just might.

So, this is the moment you become the most light and empty?
Why do you have to be so homely?
Baby, you don't see how your heart has value
Someone wants it,
Someone needs it
Don't let your heart be your prison or your poison

Yours truly, *not me...

Sometimes I look down at my hands and I realize that I do not know who is controlling them. I do not feel like I'm me, when I look in the mirror there's always a voice in the back of my head convincing me that what I am seeing is not really there, that I am not in fact the being staring back at me. My hands are not my hands, my legs are not my legs, and my face isn't my face. It's like I'm living, but through someone else. But I don't want to be someone else anymore, I want to be me. But who am I?

Fact is,
hear this true
it's not me
it's *you

after all the talking,
she saw an oportunity
he left a small door open,
it was so tiny, that she almost missed it
so she reach out and touch his soul
just for an instant, it was almost like a dream
like it didnt happen
it was lust and angels
is like you can touch the sky,
and as soon as you get close enough, you fall
but when you fall, you're numb

she could let herself dream, and make you laugh
be gracefull and delicate
she could be smart enough to know when to back off
and then you'll completely fall for her
but she's not that type of girl
the one that waits for a men to writte her a poem
she's the one that writes a poem about him

Warm coffee
Cold days wrapped in your arms
feel you wheeze
when you breathe like the leaky pipes in my apartment

Cold coffee
sunny days
do you love me
Waking up barefoot,
tiptoeing on my creaky bones
Just like I walk on old wood floors

Im not a home
Cause you don't love me
Perhaps because i cant hear my pipes or floorboards