Writing on paper is like cutting skin,
the pen and its ink are the blade and blood,
the paper...that's you, your skin.
The paper is soft and delicate, just like skin
The pen is sharp and aggressive, just like the blade
The ink, well that's the blood that pours out with each cut

But can you fix it?
Can you fix the paper?
Can you fix your skin?
The answer is no, you really can't

The paper can't really be fixed or healed
Just like your skin
Once you make that cut there's not much that can be done

It'll just become a scar, a permanent memory
But back to the pen and ink,
if you use the pen too much it'll run out of ink,
if you cut yourself then...Oh...you know what happens

The wall..
so many holes and dents
hit by raging fists too many times
it's better than hitting people

i guess...

does the wall need to be hit?
no..
but it happens anyway

so much built up anger
it fills me like water being boiled
it boils over and...
boom.

everything spills
the water spills over
the anger gets released

why?
what's wrong with me?

the words "i love you" rolled off my tongue
we had only been together for 2 months when i said it
he was shocked and so was i

as the months had passed we got closer and closer
we said "i love you" so many times and still do
but instead of him or i saying "i love you too"
we just say "i love you"

the word "too" means in addition or also
i don't love him in addition to him loving me
he doesn't love me in addition to me loving him

we love each other for who we are
not because of our bodies or money
not because he's attractive or he thinks i'm attractive too
we love each other for who we are

we are teen lovers
we want to get married to each other
have our own children together
grow old together
die together

that is our love.