Here on the floor, packing up boxes and taping up my memories. I have to move back. I have to leave this behind. I don't want to though. I can't imagine being around the same people with my old life. I'm not even sure if this new life is more or less, but for some reason my old life seems so foreign now I'm not sure how I can relate anymore. There is still a lot to do but it feels different now. Before my city was a light, but it seems to be dimmed by the great New York. But I mean...what did I expect.

blood
flows
to
my
head

it swells

it makes me bleed

grab the gauze
and wrap me up

this one is bigger than before

i do anything for you

the truth is

i cannot ignore you  

the truth is

im all out of games to play

the truth

is just a lie now

if the saint is the sinner
then who is this angel on my shoulder
telling me to not look back

i have a headache from
the horns growing out of my head
but i look back
and you're there again

the sinner and the saint
a killer deal

they couldn't wait
they took me in
and sold my soul
to buy you

and i was left with a prayer
that one day I can be whole
but we both know that it doesn't work that way

is it an act
or are you real?
you're a character
i wrote
yet i don't remember
writing myself in

ok so i am actually literally really totally

going to make a film

like actually truly make ! a film.

how do u do that

how

literally
how