Yes, I lost the old me.
Yes, I'm the only one who can get it back.
But I'm getting tired, you see...
I just wish I had someone
I could call mine.
Not to give,
But to remind,
And help me find
The old me.

I am weak, petty, small.
I am the torturer of all.
My tendrils close around your neck.
I kick your feet out,
And you fall.

I strike you through as you descend.
I twist your mind.
Your spirit bends.
Actions inflict pain.
Words lack respect.
I pull back to strike you through again.

I exhaust your mind, tear your soul, leaving not a nerve to rend.
Absently abusive, and stretched.
Twisted in violence, bent.

I create pain implicitly, just as I expect.
And I inflict the torture that I never, ever meant.

Let Me inflict the torture that I never, ever meant.

Some people laugh,
but they’re hurting inside.
They say, “I’m fine,”
with tears they hide.
So always be gentle,
you never quite know,
who’s faking the light
while feeling the low.

he said I don’t know why
I ever went out with you ..
she said but you didn’t go out
with me, we just happened
to leave at the same time  ..

alas
a loss
unless
undressed
the poor old
chap was loved
I guess
her curls
in swirls
around his chest       ..

love to walk alone
through the city
streets are not just for grown
ups a daisy!