all of these girls asking
"who would love a girl with
scars"
need to shut the hell up
cause i won't love you for your scars
the way i won't love you
for the color of your eyes
or for the sound of your voice
you can only love a soul
and a mind
so make your mind ******* glorious
and your soul worth adoration
and forget about your teenage mistakes
or no one indeed will love you

BUT WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO TEACH ME HOW TO BE PROUD
BY CALLING ME YOUR DAUGHTER?????????????????????????????
DO YOU THINK DENYING MY BEING A MAN
WILL TEACH ME HOW TO BE ******* PROUD???
DO YOU THINK I AM NOT PROUD?
I AM ALIVE. I GO OUT EVERY ******* DAY
AND THEY LAUGH AND TREAT ME LIKE A GIRL
AND I AM ALIVE AND I LOVE MYSELF AND I
AM
SO
PROUD
YOU SHOULD BE THE ONE LEARNING HOW TO BE PROUD
WHERE'S THE PRIDE IN LETTING YOUR LOVING HUSBAND
SHOUT AT YOU AND YOUR CHILDREN WHEN HE'S SO TRASHED
HE WOULDN'T MANAGE TO SPELL HIS UGLY NAME
WHERE'S THE PRIDE IN OBEYING A FILTHY DRUNKARD SWINE
WHERE'S THE PRIDE IN NOT SAYING A ******* THING TO HIM
BUT SAYING ALL THIS **** TO ME
I AM NOT WORSE THAN THIS FATHER OF MINE
AND I THINK IT WOULD BE HARD FOR  A HUMAN TO EVER BE
I AM STRONGER AND MORE PROUD THAN ALL OF YOU
HOW DO YOU DARE THINK YOU ARE MORE THAN ME
I SWEAR TO THE OLD GODS, ONE OF THESE DAYS I'LL JUST PACK MY STUFF AND LEAVE, AND I WON'T COME BACK NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU LIE TO ME THAT YOU'RE SORRY
YOU HAVE A PERFECT DAUGHTER ALREADY, LEAVE ME BE
LEAVE ME BE
*my ghost will find your ghost and tear it piece by ******* piece so that you know how it feels to have parts of you deleted

They tell you to quit smoking.
They tell you to quit drinking.
To quit laughing,
quit loving,
Living.
Because it shortens your life,
they tell you.
Because it's bad for your health,
they tell you.
Have a drink, friend,
have a smoke,
that's what's good for the soul.
Long walks at two in the morning
skipping stones over concrete oceans,
that's what's good for the soul.
Pretty women with pretty
legs, that say all sorts of
pretty things, but never too
loud, or too often, that's
what's good for the soul.
Watching as those pretty legs storm
out of the hotel room after
you said the wrong thing again. Fixing
up that last glass of
whiskey and enjoying it
alone instead. Fighting in
the back of bars over
spilled drinks or spilled
words or someone who slept
with someone else. That's
what's good for the soul.
To take a hit and to hit.
To love and to hate.
To live.
That's what's good for the soul.

tic-toc
goes the clock
you set your eyes on her
and now you're lost

tic-toc
goes the clock
you talk to her
and drown in the pools
of molten gold
that are her eyes

tic-toc
goes the clock
you talk to her
until the sun is up
and her phone battery's flat

tic-toc
goes the clock
you hold her hand
and know you've got her

tic-toc
goes the clock
you hug her tight
and know she's lost

tic-toc
goes the clock
you kiss her with
your deceitful lips

tic-toc
goes the clock
she's all yours and
you possess her

tic-toc
goes the clock
you make her happy
and maybe for a while
you even care

tic-toc
goes the clock
she's truly lost,
she loves you

tic-toc
goes the clock
but you grew bored
and faked it

tic-toc
goes the clock
you left her
and you broke her

tic-toc
goes the clock*
and now even
nursery rhymes
are about you
you *******

i.
you're hanging off the cross assigned to me and before i
              appreciated it - i did, 't was really sweet of you
  it seemed quite innocent at first; they threw stones at you, yes,
but
                    couldn't really hit you
      they yelled and laughed and pointed at you
           and i felt bad(though, hate me if you wish, i was so glad it
wasn't me they hit)for you, yet far not bad enough to start a crusade
in your favor(would you? start a crusade for me? i doubt)
   now it's starting to get ugly and
     imsorryimsorryimsorryforbeingselfish
they're munching on your flesh, devouring your """""sins"""""(they made them all up), they open their filthy mouths and blood, your blood falls down their crooked chins as they laugh and choke on you and keepondemolishingyou
        their stones don't miss you anymore, and
neither do their knives
(BUT YOU ARE PROUD) you wouldn't ask for
            help youareamanyoucanbearthisitsnotabig


                            ­                                                                d­eal
(and i now want to get you off my cross but
                        i don't think i can)

ii.
i'm holding out my hand at you
     but you would die before you reach for
                              it.

iii.
     AND THE WORST PART IS YOu make me want to strip
out of my clothes and help you out of yours and
       have you till i stop wanting to tear my skin apart
       till we can't say day from night, till
               you and i can't walk and hardly manage to
  inhale-exhale-inhale
      till we forget we hate the world
      till we forget to hate
  i want to burn with you for you under
                       you
and this is really bad

iv.
      pleasejustgetupfromyourchairwalkovertomekissmehard­kissmylipsandeyesandwriststhendragmetoyourhousandne-verletmegople­aseplease please

v.
   i'm scared of them and it is you they
h(a)unt

i
hate
the
way
you're
so
a
w
a
y