I wish I could tell you that I'm gonna save you
I wish I could tell you that everything is gonna be alright
and that you don't have to gift yourself to anyone's arms

but I can't
and maybe you have to

I guess that you have to walk those streets
those dark street corners
and wrap yourself into those motels' bedsheets
and get disgusted by their showers' floors

I guess that that love that you don't have
you will look for in many other hearts
some of them rotten
some of them sick
some of them ****** up like mine

I only wish
that your heart doesn't get rotten and doesn't get sick

because inbetweeen those streets
and the bedsheets of that motel
maybe I saw in your eyes
my reflection
the image of that defenseless someone
wanting to be free
and to be happy

and it makes me sad having to flee
but I can't be close to you

not because I think something bad about you;
I couldn't do so because doing it would be
thinking bad of myself
and I have learned to live after so much
and to forgive myself

but becuse I have to protect myself
that defenseless someone has learned with scars
and now is afraid to die
and wants to be happy
and wants to be free

forgive me please

thank you for the little love you gave me
and good luck when you keep looking
hopefully not in way too many other hearts

I was a different person when I thought these things
Oh that she could return to me now, and shake me from who I have become
This mind is futile in many things
I cannot remember all that has passed before my eyes
Concrete is poured in, to the cracks in my memory
There are so many holes and yet the faces remain the same
The faces in the back of the mirror, the faces on the other side of the window
And the faces that I know I would see if I opened my eyes in the night when I am paralyzed with fear
The dreams then come and go, and come again to haunt me
The fear she is here and she stays settled in my stomach
I remember much, but it is still to little
I was but a child but I did not know
I am grown now but still I do not know
Such I have become that which is inbetweeen
I am threaded between memories and reality
That I have felt but cannot remember the taste on my tip of my tongue
Do you know of me or why I made these scars
Have you seen me in the dark of night daring not to move a muscle
I could bang my head against the wall again
Counting up until the hundredth time
I clench my hands to draw blood from my palms
So that it will match the scarlet and ebony of my wrists and soul
I am made of dreams
The paint the wall of my mind
I am made of memories
They claw their way out my eyes

Oh the wolves still chase me
And the faces appear
This is life, and this is fear