breaking into another's memory, fleeting,
escaping through someone else's eyes,
like a tower of separate fragments and pieces,
tumbling down before it can ever rise.
and the victory lap isn't sweet, but drunken,
and everyone stumbles around in a daze,
'cause it seems like we've only just gotten started,
but it's already time to be replaced.
someone says "that's life for you, darling,
with its highs and lows, with its frowns and smiles",
and it seems like we're all just a memory, fleeting,
escaping through someone else's eyes.

your image flickers in the dark,
you are so distant, yet so close.
i raise my hand to stroke your hair,
i try to hold this lifeless ghost,
but the illusion fades away
and leaves my loneliness exposed.
your image flickers in the dark,
you are so distant, yet so close.

time doesn't slow down for a talk,
like the resting heartbeat
of a ticking bomb.
every pause could last days,
could last weeks,
could last years.
it could end with a shot,
it could break with a kiss.
like a memory, split in a billion pieces,
like a mountain, with all its valleys and creases,
like an enemy missile,
about to be dropped,
time doesn't slow down for a talk.

i take my heart and put it in the ground,
i feed it ash, and dust, and desperation,
and everything's that still remains untouched
by hurricanes, and fires, and floods, and earthquakes
of what must be a lifetime's worth of heartbreaks;
i wouldn't know, i've already lost count.
i took my heart and put it in the ground.

what love may give
love shall take all the same,
the joy it brings is fleeting and uncertain.
a stolen kiss behind the heavy curtain
and every breath is on the precipice.
the one who yearns must yearn forever more,
the one who dares must learn to throw the game.
when bodies touch it's there to keep the score;
what love may give
love shall take all the same.

heaven is a lonely place to die
even if it's called a paradise.
there must be a reason why
the ticket comes
with a warning in small font.
don't forget to say goodbye,
there will be no coming back
from this joyride.
take a step towards your dream.
is it just as sweet as you thought?
was it really worth your life?
i hope so.
heaven is a lonely place to die
even if it's called a paradise.
now that you're already here,
welcome home.

i'm sleepwalking
through my youth,
touching things
that don't touch me back,
wanting people
that break my heart
long before
i can break theirs.
and i wish
i could just disappear,
wouldn't make
any difference at all,
'cause i'm wrong
in so many ways,
telling lies
to pretend i'm whole.
what's the point?
was there one that i missed?
lost the interest
halfway through,
turned to nothing
by half past noon.
i'm so sorry;
i've been sleepwalking
through my youth.

a raging storm can sing a lullaby
to those, whose hearts are caught up
in the fire.
the last pursuit before they learn to fly
away, but then they'd rather keep
on trying
to be destroyed by something more
than them; oh, what a view it paints,
that burning sky.
there is no after as there's no before
for those, whose souls are not afraid
to die.

the dawn stands witness of a brand new day
and mourns, so solemn in its silent cry.
the winds keep vigil at their shallow grave
and raging storms sing them a lullaby.

those who seek flame see fires everywhere,
one's lifebuoy's but an anchor to the sinking.
where there's a fear of dark, there's fear of blinking,
for even momentary blindness makes you lose the way.

so many things were tempered with to always keep us scared,
on edge and waiting for the blade to drop when we're not thinking.
one's lifebuoy's but an anchor to the sinking,
those who seek flame see fires everywhere.

some of the best things we create
are meant for others to explore.
we grow too fast, we learn too late,
we leave before the curtain call.
and in the end all that we've made
turns into words, engraved in stone.
some of the best things we create
will only matter once we're gone.

you might meet someone,
be it the darkest night
or the first bright sunlight
of the rest of your life.
and they will look at you
like you're the only one they see,
not knowing that a part of you
still wishes you were here, with me,
be it the burning depths of hell
or the paradise beyond;
they'll never know you quite as well,
it's not their touch for which you yearn,
but i can't take you,
this space was always made for one,
although i loved you,
there's nothing more i could've done.
so i hope you meet someone,
be it in the midst of night
or on the brink of the first sunlight
of the rest of your life.

the last thing that you keep is regret;
all the times it went wrong,
all the times they were upset with you.
you hear the words of your friends,
how they wanted to make it,
but all those explanations
are way past their expiration date.
and you don't want to hear it right now,
you're just fine being here,
all alone in your house.
and there's nothing that needs being said;
make a promise to self,
even when life gets sad,
the last thing that you keep is regret.

talk to me.
i've had enough of this silence.
i've never felt so alone in my life,
i've never seen a darkness so deep.
who knew that emptiness could be so heavy;
i suppose, i owe you an apology.
please.
if every next word could be final,
if every next touch could be the last time,
i hope that i see you when i fall asleep.
who knew that even a sinner's worth saving;
i guess, we're about to find out.
if i wait for you at the brink
will you talk to me?

i stay out of it more than i used to,
painting pictures on a metaphorical canvas.
anything is possible if i want to
find something that catches on,
leave everything else that matters
and turn away from it all.

i have great conversations with myself,
drawing memories like a string to wrap and tighten.
i live and die keeping it to myself
with every thought that spills through
like gasoline, begging for a lighter.
i stay out of it more than i used to.

things go missing,
lost somewhere between
then and now.
and the rest is history,
and all that you can do is try
to outrun the rising tide.
oh, to be carried away,
to be buried in your own garden.
if you cling to the things
you can't change,
that's the first mistake.
but the rest is already swallowed,
swept by the rising tide.
things go missing,
lost somewhere between
you and i,
reshaping history,
rewriting time
all the time.

when the time comes
i want my story to be told
from a place of love,
i want to to know
that there was someone
somewhere
who gave a ****,
even if just a little bit.
please don't twist my words,
don't turn my intentions
into long-term plans,
'cause there is nothing long-term
about the way
somebody's life ends.
i used to have a vision
but at some point
i made a decision to try my luck,
so when the time comes
my only hope is
that my story is told by someone
who gives a ****.

i poured my sadness into you
although it wasn't fair,
i made you suffer the same fate
because i was so scared
to be alone.
and in this empty, desolated place
i stole your light,
abused your grace,
and then i took your life.
i know that it's too late,
there's no way home.
i'm sorry,
i'm just scared to be alone.

i'm rewriting my past
and rebuilding my mind;
i've been killing myself
just to feel alive,
but it doesn't work anymore.
so i'm learning to dream,
and it's hard to believe,
but i don't really want to die.
i'm rewriting my past
and letting my fears go;
i've been killing myself
just to feel alive,
but that's not who i am
anymore.

a thin red line,
it's there for all who do not know
if they are going to be here
to see the sun,
the way it rises,
chasing all the shadows out,
the way it wraps its shining warmth
around the ground,
around our souls.
you make a vow
to fight as long as you still have
the strength to take another breath
and fill your lungs,
and take a step
towards the twilight as it fades
with every star that it creates,
so in its final burst
you hope it takes us all,
may god have mercy on our souls.

they'll give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they'll take it more seriously
now that it has a place
in the common vocabulary.
it's still something
they don't understand,
since they can't relate
to battling the heaviness
just to stay present,
they don't know the weight
of staying awake.
now they put it on screens,
they promote it commercially,
mass-produced relief.
it still doesn't equal acceptance,
and just being able to live
shouldn't need to be paid for.
they give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they're no longer afraid to say it.
though it has its own place
in the vocabulary,
the victims remain unseen.

it's deafening to the point
of your own heartbeat
crashing against your eardrums,
a wasp nest inside your head
buzzing incessantly,
stepping into the spotlight
that you try to deny it,
but it pushes you into the dark instead.
it's maddening to the point
of no longer being able
to separate your own voice
from the crowd.
it's so ******* loud,
spreading, feeding off of your fear,
and you know, deep down,
that someday it just might win.

there's a sea
on the other side of this dream,
you will meet yourself
there, on the shore.
she might say
"you're so much braver than me,
'cause, you see,
you've made it here on your own."
she could hold your hand
or hold back a laugh
when the waves catch you off guard
as they break.
there's a life
on the other side of this dream
to welcome you back
once you're awake.

we write our stories with unsteady hands,
our fingers stained in ink from all the errors,
a silent witness to our hopes and terrors,
it will remember when the world forgets.

and if we make it through to tell the tale,
our voice may linger, but the words will perish,
so we disclose all of our hopes and terrors,
be it in darkness or the light of day.

anonymous or public, foes or friends,
bound, bruised and battling your inner devils,
you'll see yourselves in our hopes and terrors,
preserved in stories, written by our hands.

it's a place you don't recognise anymore;
your mind,
the pathways, formerly known
as such and such,
you gave them names yourself,
you assigned tasks,
you decided their fate.
and now it's all different all of a sudden;
and now it's no longer familiar,
like a new suit
you've never once worn.
and you don't know what weapon to choose,
how to protect yourself
in this one-sided war
in your mind.
the trenches,
so dutifully dug out,
all prepared for the day you lose,
are gone,
and you don't recognise this place anymore.

they took the light of your soul
and then put it out.
they said that it wasn't on purpose,
but you are the one
who's fading with every night,
the shadows are creeping inside,
it's harder to tell the time
when there's no sun in sight.

they said you don't have much to offer,
an empty vessel for their god.
they stole the light of your soul
just so they could put it out.

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.

fame is a double-edged sword,
the greatest of earthly temptations;
if you are the one they adore,
you're also the one that they hate on.
you change so they wouldn't get bored,
but they always run out of patience;
it happens too quick, it takes you too long,
it makes you look weak, yet somehow too strong,
and all that you give them, no matter how real,
they'll deem it a cheap imitation
and say it's a shame
that you've fallen so low.
can't say that you haven't been warned;
fame is a double-edged sword.

placing bets on a misplaced hope,
filling lungs with denial,
watching it turn into smoke.
it's a poisonous kind of co-dependency,
drowning out the smell of decay
by lighting scented candles.

you can't stop it from spreading further
from your chest to your throat,
so you increase the dosage.
if you go, you'll go on a high note,
filling lungs with denial,
watching it turn to smoke.

can you tell me
my love's worth?
is it as good as yours?
will it ever be enough
to keep you satisfied?
'cause i would break my wrists
and fold my bones,
and wrap my hopes
and dreams around them
with a little red bow
on top,
and fit it all in a box
with a wish and a promise
to always be by your side.
but can my love ever come close
to yours?
will it be enough
to keep you satisfied?

i would take a pill
if it really helped,
i would take a handful
if it was the end.
i don't want to wake up
in an empty room,
i don't want to waste it
if it comes too soon.
i don't want to stay here
for another day,
i don't want to chase it
as it slips away.
i would take a pill
if it really helped,
i would take them all
if it was the end.

i'll come back to you
from the ashes of our past,
from the terrible things that i've done,
from the sins i still need to atone for,
from the blood of your sacrifice,
from the steps of my broken home;
from the pain that i've caused,
from the darkness inside my heart,
from the madness that shattered my core,
from the wreckage of our past,
from the terrible things that i've done,
from the sins i still need to atone for.

maybe if i was funny
you'd like me more,
maybe if i was pretty
you'd finally want me.
should i be loud or quiet,
honest or lying,
laughing or crying;
what would you prefer?
maybe if i was
somebody else,
the worst or the best,
or nothing at all;
maybe if i was funny
you'd like me more.

when the nights grow longer
and the days grow darker,
and the only light is the one
that can be switched off anytime,
you force yourself to wake up,
you force yourself to eat,
you force yourself to try
just a little harder,
and when you need to sleep
you have to force yourself,
ironically enough,
not to think
about the looming danger,
about the trembling hands,
about every test you couldn't pass,
about how the nights are longer
and how the days are darker,
and the only light you've got
is the one inside your heart.

in a moment,
it will all be gone in just a moment,
when the lights go out
on the edge of this black hole
that you call home.
it's a struggle
to prevent it from collapsing on itself,
to maintain any sense of self at all.
you don't want the things that help you,
it's no good if you're not hurting anymore,
as if someone's keeping score
of all the times that you've been happy.
and you try to patch the void,
pull the curtains close together,
wait till everyone is gone.
now it feels a bit more like it,
when it's dark
both on the inside and the outside
of the edge of this black hole
that you call home,
you're all alone.

my love,
when the lights go out,
i know you get lonely
after midnight.
when your heart spins
round and round,
here comes the revelation,
here comes the kiss
of the one
you've always wanted.
they're all yours now,
but the magic is gone
and the spell is broken.
my love,
i hope you know
that you're still
my favourite person.
when the lights go out,
when your heart
hits the ground
and you fall backwards,
here comes the revelation,
here comes the kiss
of the one
you've always wanted.
they're all yours now,
but the spark is gone
and the spell is broken.
my love,
i know you're tired,
so am i.
when the lights go out,
do you still get lonely
after midnight?

i am lost.
this emptiness can't be
all there is to it.
one's hope is just as fragile
as the proof of something better
awaiting once you're done
with getting stronger.
i don't know if i am strong enough yet.
i'm not sure if i've been through enough yet.
is my suffering too little
in comparison to others
who experienced more pain,
more grief, more loss, more desperation?
am i just a broken vessel
for someone's misplaced affection?
is this emptiness all that i can create?
if it's really all there's to it
i would rather know for sure
than be constantly misled
by a non-existent cause.
i am lost.

do you remember the person
that you were
five years ago?
ten years ago?
do you think they were better
at living your life?
would they hold your hand now
or push you off the edge
of your endless agony,
that all-consuming sadness
that's eating away at your mind?
would they take a picture
or just walk by?
do you still wish to go back,
catch up with all the lost time
and make things right?
you're the only version of yourself
that's available
right here and right now,
and did you ever consider
that it's for the best?
maybe past belongs in the past,
maybe you're happier without it.
everything looks more appealing
through the lens
of nostalgia,
but if you remember the person
that you were
five, ten years ago,
do you still think they were better
at living your life?
or are you finally ready
to make it yours?

i want to be moved by things,
even if they leave me empty
afterwards.
i want to be known
by someone who's brave enough
to dare and explore
the most profound depths
of my soul.
i want to always be seen as i am,
not as i was before;
that person is long gone.
i want to be loved like a sky on fire,
like a flood of devastation,
like a stolen kiss
before the end of the world.
i want to be moved by things,
even if there's nothing
but a lifeless desert
in their wake,
even if they leave me empty
afterwards.

in a world that's hellbent on division
you might just be my flavour of strange;
and if love is a war,
you can have my allegiance.
if we we burn, we burn bright;
if we die, then we die
holding hands at the edge.
like two planets on course for collision,
we trade endless stagnation for change;
and whatever the cost,
we're not bound by the limits.
if we live, we live now;
if we die, then we die
holding hands at the edge.

i would never hurt you
on purpose,
but i'm not too good
at repenting,
hopelessly entranced
by this poison.
if you still can love me,
please,
love me.
but if you must hate me,
then hate me.

if i step into the dark,
don't follow me.
and if i become the dark,
forget me.
for the dark isn't black,
but red,
and it's drowning me.
i won't let you go down
by my side.

i've been living my life
like fulfilling a sentence.
i guess i've been waiting
for someone to save me,
but they never came around.
i have buried myself in the ground
while i was still breathing,
i have punished myself
for the lack of resilience,
i've torn my reflection to pieces
and tried to forget my own name.
i've been waiting for someone to say
that today is the day,
now you know what to do.
i've been wandering, lost,
confused and without a purpose.
i have wished for this life to end
when it left me so hopeless,
when i had no more faith
to hold on to;
i guess now it makes sense.
i've been living my life
like fulfilling a sentence,
so long i've been waiting
for someone to save me;
now i choose to save myself.

when the fire is bright
it leaves burns on your hands,
it takes scars and paints over
in warm strokes of red;
and it keeps you alive
while you keep it alight.
it's a matter of time
before you run out
of things you could feed it;
as much as you need it,
all fires are meant to die.
it turns pain into heat
and makes you feel loved,
but it keeps you alive
only as long
as you keep it alight.
when it burns from the inside,
it's so easy to lose your mind
when the fire is bright.

in the early hours of dawn
everything is pure,
every day starts anew,
every person is born again,
everyone gets a clean slate
and the sins of our past
are all washed away.
i wish i could hold this moment,
make the sunrise last forever,
so that we never have to face
the pain again.
in the early hours of dawn
everything is pure,
everyone gets a clean slate
and the sins of our past
are all washed away.

do you know
when the party
begins to wear out,
when the laughters
don't burst as often,
and the fireworks
no longer ignite
in their eyes;
when the twilight
reminds of sunrise,
and their tongues
are too caught up
for talking?
when the clarity comes
with a bittersweet pill,
a prescription
from someone's pocket;
when the shatters of fun
are divided between,
when they lie
on the floor,
watch the couple
next door,
make some coffee
and make a scene;
when confetti
is covered in footprints
and balloons collect dust
in the corners,
and the fireworks
no longer explode
in their hearts;
do you know
when the party is over?

i've been slipping into your skin;
what can i do when you expect
so much of me?
when you are all i want to be?
when i don't feel myself
whenever you're around?
and every cell inside my body screams
that you're the only one
i'll ever need,
and, piece by piece,
i'm losing more and more of me
just to get close to you.
i've been slipping into your life,
your heart,
your world,
tasting your touch.
what would it like to be you
just for a moment?
just for once?
i wish i could be good enough
to play the part you wrote for us;
i can't be me, and yet
i can't be you.
what can i do when you don't like
the way i am
when i'm not trying to please you?
what can i do when you expect
so much of me?
and you are all i want to be,
but even if i lay my life
down at your feet,
all that you'll ever love is you,
all that i'll ever be is me.

i dream of setting things on fire
and watching as they turn to ash;
like lovers, tempted by desire,
surrender to the call of flesh.

some flames can never be extinguished,
some marks pierce skin right to the bone.
some pyres are better left unfinished,
some prayers make you feel alone.

but when the blazes take you higher,
the sky grows crimson in a flash.
i dream of setting things on fire
and watching as they turn to ash.

when you knock on my door,
i will welcome you with open arms;
my long lost friend,
my dearest enemy,
my unwritten play in three acts.
my forgotten peace of mind,
the one i never learned to hate,
the one i'll always yearn for;
my oldest regret,
my most recent mistake.
when you knock on my door,
i will let you in, but won't let you stay;
the one i never asked for,
the one who always walks away.

my lips are cold,
but i still feel it burning,
the aftertaste of words
i didn't say.
i wish i knew
how to explain
this restless, hungry yearning
to be somebody's lover
for a day.

i'm sorry if my love is such a burden,
i'm sorry if it's such a waste of time.
i'm sorry if my mind,
can't work the way you want it,
i'm sorry that i didn't learn to lie.
i'm sorry you were never truly mine,
i'm sorry that my heart
can't work the way you want it.
i'm sorry it was such a waste of time,
i'm sorry that my love was such a burden.