I write a thousands stupid words because I don't know what else to do,
and I write them sitting here, pretending I'm not thinking about you.
Pretending I'm not thinking about your eyes that I totally don't miss,
nor thinking about how good it was, that last so desperate kiss.
Nor all those times we spent just laughing in your room,
because I refuse to sink back into depression's cold dark tomb.

Nothing good rhymes with happiness,
yet are you even surprised?
Happiness just gets you hurt,
it's just a ploy they've devised.

Happiness is disappointment,
but a stupid waste of time.
But I thought that you were worth it,
just like you're worth this rhyme.

Your eyes are still the same grey-blue
In every way you are still you.
Yet your smile’s not warm, your voice not soft
You’re not sending, my heart aloft.
"I love you, I always will"
Yet looking at you, my heart lies still.

I guess we truly, weren’t meant to be,
Since there nothing between you and me.
Not kindness, nor friendship, nor even lust,
I was right, and all is dust.

And my heart screams 'leave me alone'
but a smile protrudes my mask of stone.
Everything hurts, beyond belief
but it's the happiest, kind of relief.
And that is the paradox you,
I don't want to talk, yet I love to.

Death is never the worst fate
Alas I realize this too late

My heart bleeds poetry, the way your wrists bleed blood
And so I bled, as my world fell into the mud
Yet I bleed not now, for neither do you,
and you don't care, so you're not going to.
But let it not be said, that I did not try,
I just can't bleed poetry, with a muse that's gone dry

Life is a journey, a road of wonder, and pain,
shame about the destination, I'll never see you again.