It is always "What will other people think when they see you?" NOT "What would I feel when you said that to me?"

Maybe we’re trying too hard  
to mend what was never meant to be whole,  
forcing ourselves to fix it anyway.  
But am I truly ready to walk away,  
or was the timing never ours to begin with—  
or are we just too torn apart to feel this empty?  

We used to speak with love,  
now every word feels like a war,  
shouted, sharpened, meant to wound.  

Maybe it’s because I changed,  
or was it that I simply fell out of love with you?

we keep playing these mind games
whether I should stay or not
I am like a bird in a locked cage
shackled feet, strangled neck
covered mouth
toxic traits, manic behavior
split personality
call the hotline, he is severe
worst of all
I run away from the truth
scared of a little truth or dare
I wanna leave but I can't
been keep on making the same mistakes
no character development
no personal growth
the other one leaves, another one stays
but the first one is the guy I loved not the latter

Maybe it feels nice, to be a kid again
you stumble and cry
you play and you laugh
but when you get older
you are depressed and anxious
scared and tired.

I drowned myself in anything that numbed the pain—ran from the tears, lost in a haze of smoke, maybe just wasted, maybe high, maybe both.

Shots after shots, strangers’ hands on my waist, empty kisses that tasted like bad decisions.

Talking nonsense in front of everyone, laughing too loud, dancing like I own the night.

Cut my hair, inked my skin—each mark a reminder that I’m still here.

A little more reckless, a little less soft. The rebel is back. The ***** is untamed.

My head throbs from all the crying—oh, mercy me!

Drenched in heartbreak, drowning in sin, I light another cigarette, take another shot, let another stranger trace their fingers on my skin.

Anything to forget. Anything to feel alive.

The pain is a lullaby, and I'm dancing to its rhythm.

The rebel is back. The ***** is unleashed.

You made me hate this city.

You made me hate you—ooh.

Every street feels haunted, every corner reeks of memories I’m trying to burn.

I walk past the places we once called ours, but now they feel foreign, tainted, ruined.

So I drown in the neon lights, let the music swallow me whole, lose myself in the arms of strangers who don’t even know my name.

Anything to forget. Anything to erase you. The rebel is back. The ***** doesn’t care.

Revenge is not yours to begin with,
Your pain and emotions are valid
But what you're planning to do is invalid.

Play your cards right.

If life weighs you down
Bring yourself up once again;