Spend time with me sister! The sister I know I don’t have, a confusing passenger in my mind, that continues to bleed upon the apple-peels in my daydreams, where has your real reason for being envisioned burrowed? Is it not beneath the coal-white heated sands of my misbehavior? Or in the convenient pleasures of misjudgment. Either way your whisper wasn’t loud enough for my distracted eyes, those mobile shells recording the affairs of a race in which I am far behind, far too interested in spying on the obvious I often rest.

There are two types of people
The heart breakers, and the broken-hearted
I cannot be the heart breaker
It pains  my body, as fear pulses through my veins
knowing i will be broken again
You ripped the muscle from my chest
And left a scar that bleeds each time
you kiss her, touch her, think of her
don't kiss me, don't touch me, and don't think of me
It aches and aches
Why have i let you break me?
There are two types of people
heart breakers, and the heartbroken
how can you destroy me by loving her?
How can you break me and remain unshattered?
Why can i never be the breaker
Ripping the souls form others chests
Turning their advances into worthlessness
turning their love into loathing
turning their hearts to stone
like you did mine.