i'm a little older now,
a little less naive.
there used to be
more colour
to my dreams,
but now there's just
a residue
of chances that i missed,
forever lost in time.

i'm a little smarter now,
a little less surprised
when people leave;
no heartbreaks,
no goodbyes.
and now i'm just
collecting lies
from strangers that i kissed,
one sparkle at a time.

i'm a little older now,
a little less naive.
sometimes i see
their faces
in my dreams,
but now they're just
a residue,
a taste upon my lips,
forever lost in time.

i've been trying
for a very long time,
but i cannot catch you.
always three steps behind,
close enough to watch,
but too far away
to wrap my arms around you
and never let go.
your shadow rests on my chest,
your smell slips through my fingers,
i'm surrounded by all the things
that you so desperately clung on to,
except for one thing
that i need the most.
somewhere between desperation
and make-believe,
i have found a way
to make myself whole,
but it's just a trick for the mind,
not good enough
to fool the soul.
and i've been giving in
and giving up,
and giving it my all,
but you don't ever look back,
never offer me a chance to follow.
this chase is getting the best of me,
but i still can't catch you,
as well as stop
and finally let you go.
always three steps behind,
close enough to watch,
but too far away
to save you from the fall.

ideals, built on misconceptions,
an oath, extended by the fall.
between destruction and obsession,
this world could never made you whole.

and as you move in wrong directions,
one expectation at a time,
you come to see their true intentions
and every lie between the lines.

the endless strife towards perfection,
it barely mattered much at all.
between destruction and obsession,
this world could never make you whole.

one let down after another,
i'll dig out my own
eternal peace.
and if you want to help,
please,
just give me a hand
or leave me alone.
i'll willingly surrender,
lay my youth to waste,
put it, piece by piece,
on the doorstep
of every single place
that i've ever been
kicked out of.
and i can't slow down,
because if i do,
when the time comes
i will not be able
to let myself go.
one small tragedy after another,
an unwritten letter
with a goodbye kiss.
and if you want to help,
please,
just put an end to it
or leave me alone.

we're all made of regrets
and sharp edges,
dancing alone in the dark.
what a disgrace it is to know
that we're never truly happy
unless we're being betrayed
by someone we love.
and someone we loved
was a sinner,
and all that we want
is a drink and a bullet
to swallow.
whatever the weapon of choice,
the means don't mean much
as long as the end
is the same.
this life might just be a mistake
or a shared disappointment,
a high with an endless low.
and what a relief it is to know
that we weren't meant
to be happy,
all made of scars on our wrists
and sharp edges,
dancing alone in the dark.

her smile has a sharp edge,
like a knife through his chest.
and the cut's getting deeper
as he tries to get closer,
but she keeps him
at an arm's length.

there's a chance of falling apart,
but instead he's falling in love.
the more she draws back,
the more sacrifices he makes
to be worthy of her grace,
to finally conquer her heart.

her laughter has no end,
like a sunset wrapped mist.
and the fog is getting thicker
as he tries not to get lost,
as he never wants to be found,
dying to stay like this.
chained with weightless ropes,
always by her side,
when the torture is most welcome
and the suffering is pure bliss.

passion, tangled in disdain;
dreams, collapsing in desire;
nightmares, every one's the same,
burning in the holy fire.

lovers, bleeding at the cross;
arms, connected by a whisper;
visions, pulling them so close
as he draws the veil to kiss her.

couples, stumbling down the stairs;
vows, to be engraved in marble.
where he goes, there's always death;
where she goes, there's always trouble.

promise, bound by the pain;
truth, but everyone's a liar;
passion, tangled in disdain,
burning in the holy fire.