I'm just another note, in your symphony.
Grab me by my throat, have me trembling on my knees.
You're just a chain smoker,
I'm a Pack of Cigarettes.
I cross the line & lean over, nothing I regret.
.
You tighten the strings, make another sound.
Play a rhythm, and just keep smoking around.
And with every noise, your eyes they shine brighter.
Cause the only hand you need is the one with the lighter.
.
Now your buds are on the ground.
You wonder what went wrong?
Your chords were right, & so was the tone.
.
I knew karma, couldn't harm her.
But, this time it's going down.
Cause what goes around...
...must come back around.
- **Aks, Chainsmokers & Symphonies.

“I swear it to you,”
“He had you in this life...
...but during the next million you’ll be only mine.”

The fading sunset and the moon cry
for their spot in the sky
Yet they still lack what I see in your eyes.

"You're beautiful" isn't the compliment that it used to be, you know. Because what happens to beautiful girls in this world is anything but. Your beauty is used against you, used to target and mark and blame you. "I couldn't help it, you're so beautiful." When they touch you without your permission. Girls hate you because you're beautiful. Men turn their sickness on you. You're scarred by the greed of someone who wants to touch you and thinks they can because you're beautiful, scarred by the envy of people who can't look like you, who don't realize what beauty really does to people. They notice you because you're beautiful and they don't care about anything else. You're just a pretty doll that they think they can play with anytime they want, that they can blame their actions against you on you because you're beautiful. Because "I couldn't help myself" is said in a way too complimentary tone from someone you didn't want to touch you. Sometimes you just want to take it all away. Shave your head, burn your body. Waste yourself away into nothing, till there isn't a trace left of beauty to blame. Till you're invisible and not worth targeting anymore. But there will be other beautiful girls for some sick **** to target and destroy. Someday, you're all going to destroy the beautiful girls in the world. You're going to destroy all of them and complain about it. Because how dare they take their beauty away from you? Even though you're the ones who ruined it. Ruined it for everyone and made all the beautiful girls destroy themselves to get away from you. Make girls afraid to be ugly because you're all focused on the beautiful girls, when really, you're the ******* ugly ones. Punish them for not being beautiful. Punish them for being beautiful. Punish them for everything because you can. Say what you will, but beautiful is twisting. I've ceased to make sense. I'm not sleeping right. I'll make this make sense later, maybe. Or maybe I won't, because even as I write this, I'm afraid of not being thought of as beautiful. Because you're punished either way, and is it better to be targeted than ignored? I'm trying to remember when I was the ugly duckling kid and nobody talked to me, versus now when I'm targeted for destruction. I don't remember what was worse. I don't remember, so it scares me either way.

I think I'm going to be a recluse. Write novels in a shack with cats until I get arrested or evicted for not paying taxes or something. Then get arrested for vagrancy and go to jail and write more about how messed up the world is. If I get out, I'll go back to being a vagrant. I'll let my hair get long and matted and I'll let my nails grow long and black and I'll dig my own grave with them and I'll smell like dust and decay and death. I'll give up. I'll resign from humanity.

I am a bug
You are a garden
Just one more hug
And I’m in heaven

I am an island
You are a sea
Leaving me stunned
And no longer empty

I am a comet
You are a star
Missing you’s become a habit
That leaves me with a scar