Real men weep
Heroes take a stand
rumors are born
where cowards land
the strong get stronger
that longer they was the other hand
after, fighting for what is right
until you are left
beating the lesser man
be your own judge
until God takes the stand
Always choose good over evil,
at least that is the plan.

If I may be so bold
What would you do if you were told
That your emotions can't be sold
For more than your weight in gold?

Your eyes are dry and black,
Your feelings indeed lack
An emotion that is slack;
And without it, you're off track.

They used to like me
but now I just get used
once or twice in year
I felt pointless

I guess I was dull
Not young and mechanical
Until you made me feel sharp
I guess you steel little bits of me

But if my life is short I’d rather give you my all
They call me a #2
Makes sense you must be number one

But I notice I am not the only one you make feel sharp
You really go around
I guess I am more dependent on you than you were on me .
And now I know they aren’t the only ones who used me .

I'm under so much pressure
my mind is starting to melt
my heart is running dry
to these new feelings that I felt
my knowledge starting to empty
in a vacuum called my life
my heart is still pumping
but I no longer know why

misty eyes and blurry skies
my mind is in knots
i'm lost
the lines blur together
i can't tell which side is which
i just want to get out
i just want to get better

Pointless nostalgic,
my only talent is echoing
onto amniotic microcosms,
where singing is the abortion,
of any cerebral commotion.
No courage in my veins
to float on the vibes
of a carcass that remains of me.
licked clean with the searing cure
of a lion, by then confused
with the dense effect
of another space, burned to the ground.
These new sunsets cry raw drops of clay,
still hanging by the thread of these horizons,
while balance bet everything,
on the frustrated sound
of unspoken words.

Education, they say
Sets free the mind
Only it has, ironically
Imprisoned mine.
I have lost my heart
Somewhere on this path,
Leaving my mind
Alone, in wrath
As it struggles to
One day forgive itself,
Then comes to dwindle
Through grief; it wilts.

my friends say it's pointless to cry over
that i'm better than that
"**** him"
i just hate this so much
these tears,
so called "pointless"
are present and
undoubtedly existing
i know i'm not too high to mistake
i rub my eyes
i ******* fingers
i know they're real
i'm still fighting it
because i'm "better than that"
but these tears,
they sting
they burn on my cheeks
have i fought it for so long?
but i saw you
with her
and you saw me
then you grabbed her hand
just to let me know
and trust me,
i know
my dad tells me not to regret anything
not to regret the money i spent,
the time i spent,
the love i spent on someone
so foolish
he tells me it's just a lesson
and i'll learn many more
i know i gotta be prepared
i feel like i should be
but i think i'm not
i regret ever telling you everything
i regret my words to you
i regret my hands and how they know you so well
i can still feel you
my hands won't let me forget
your smell is memorized
your laugh is memorized
you're still there, right?
god, i just hope you know
i hope you know she doesn't compare
i could elaborate but i think that says enough
we're all in denial, aren't we?
this is where i say "**** him", right?