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[Intro]
I've spent my time trying to come to terms
With the selfish fact that I don't love you back
I'll use my line to find peace to homw
And the [?] is just a bump in the road

[Verse 1]
I'll let the telephone ring

[Verse 1]
We'll make loneliness into love when we're bored
And find the right emotional principle to cut like a sword
Over the words of a past me whispering
Love was the destination but we would settle for some sympathy
Turning myself into my own lord and then finding my own spinal chord
It's finally safe to throw our bones back into the sea
So we can forget what it means to have bodies

В лучшем случае проблематично было воспринимать реальность с моим близоруким видением мира, которое я создал в себе.
Нехватка жестов ограничила эффективность моих слов, и все, о чем она просила, было освобождением.
Просто нежные, убедительные моменты, приносящие облегчение. Не ответы, только облегчение.
И каким-то образом я придал форму куче осколков стекла, которые теперь стали вазой и могли ею оставаться.
А она нашла бы способ снова держать в ней свои розы политыми и живыми, в то время как в глубине души я был разбит вдребезги.
Я высоко ценился среди блёклых проходимцев, невосприимчивых к боли, но боли, порожденной невосприимчивостью.
Она манила меня и недооценивала меня, потому что никакая другая любовь не закрывала мне глаза столь просто.

[Intro]
She likes her rock and roll
And be broke and famous
With broken [?]
To take all their time

[Verse 1]
She likes her rock and roll to be loud and honest

It's a terrible statement but I never let it leave my side. That sickening realization that I'm done with this fight. Moments kneeling on the bedroom floor sickened by the entity I had absorbed, no more. I would not let the self-scrutinizing endeavor endure a precipice a monologue questioning my every motive. My disaster stricken heart feeling broken, my emotions quoted spilling out of a broken vase taking the place of what was once your emotion.

Diluted with tears, an open book scribbled with fears engraved pools of ink I'm vocally shook; and I'm tired of telling myself that it's gonna change.

Taken by the spectacular lie that existence can end. Faulse-hoods predicted my sinners dictated my every decision.

An exit of sorts seemed logical, cause I thought I could silence this breath. But contrary to my mindset, I circumvented my threats to silence the demons singing songs in my head; whispering in my ear, that ending it all is a safe bet.

December 24th is a plague at the grocery store
A plague at the department stores
A plague for the fatherless, childless, and emotionally torn
But a time to celebrate the cold waves coming in
The birth of a child, the removal of sin, the rebirth of a mile
Chance this store will wipe of hot chocolate and spiked eggnog
So we can let God remind us that we all mean something

There is nothing here for me,
But I'm here for you,
So I will never leave.
And I'm starting to believe,
Every time you said you loved me,
You were just talking in your sleep.

And I said I would die for you

There's enough people that we hate
that I think we should build a temple
I guess I'll never relate to the people that I'm supposed to resemble.
There's an empty cofifn at a wake carved with the words
"Death to all rebels."
A purgatory's an empty gate
when you project love the right love will...
And the only way to feel peace

I tried looking into her eyes to make sense of my own life but found senseless realization I was reckless and she was just a vacation, a vacation from the monotony that I lived in. and avoiding risk felt nice until I realized I was avoiding purpose. and it's all new but I love her at least I think because I don't wanna live so empty. and I have this tendency to complicate things better than I break and she was somehow caught in the in-between. and forever means forever and that's what it'll always mean and life is reality except for when it's a dream. and those are the moments that I can't seem to think but I make sense of my mess by making sense of her and me. and this fear keeps me alive this fear of knowing that she could leave me. and I could try but this fear fuels the flames and that's why I feel like I'm going to die cuz she kept a piece if me close by and I liked it the best I can. and now that I know who I used to be it's hard to be happy with who I am. and that's where she came in. a half faked smile and a love to pretend but prior to her love was nothing more to me than a vacation a vacant motivation to avoid the means it takes to reach any real end. a sense of salvation but also an element of bitter hope to cope with the rope that was tied around my neck. and the savior I hoped for was chased away back then when I found vices to take the place of all the things that I wanted to be. and I lost sight of me but I was told I could be anybody. and I thought I could find purpose in loving someone who looks like me. and I began dreaming or sinking, most nights they meant the same thing. and when that salvation finally found me it was traded away for 30 pieces of silver, seems like that's not too much but I sold my savior for a whole lot less; my two best friends, acceptance, and a mirage of fake happiness. and now the words I used to cling to, was my refuge, now torture me in my head. forgive them father they know not what they do, it's funny cuz it seems like I did every time I lied to you. and that's my only truth, that I can't sleep at night and I can't get these things right and salvation escaped when she came into view. but now I'm hoping my whole life isn't as mistaken as you. but there's no way of knowing, when all I'm doing is coping with my own pride. and my past would fight with me hoping I would find truth. but it's never a good idea to start a fight with a man who has nothing to lose. and I'm empty, my heart is caving in. and for whatever reason, I finally let someone in. and I don't know what love is, but I'm growing. 

Sometimes even tolerance is void of compassion
So I'll ask if we can somehow ration some fashion room for fast action
Removal of passion from the last stand we took against happen stance and
Move past the future of perfection with conviction
A numbness of remission or retreat of mission
Until we're fishing for compliments and opposite opinions
And strategically place neglect of excuses
I've buried enough dreams, I've cut out the wrong seems

I tried to capture my emotions on paper and was told I was misdirected, but maybe my mindset has just been infected by this pain-infested re-appropriation of my familiarity with negligence.

Part of my heart followed me when I finally moved out, but I still feel most connected to it when I go back home, she is now just a three year memory of being addicted to caffeine and praying I could tell her all the things I planned on saying.

The large amount of coffee stains in my journal is a reminder of when I pushed myself into depression. It's funny how artistic we become when our hearts are broken.

the most sense I can make of this world has slowly transformed itself from being the ink in my pen to being the pain in my heart and head. I never meant to write words that would make people feel like crying, I just never wanted to write a single word where I was lying.

Break this bread like you broke his body and raise a glass above your eye level.
Boast in the moments that leave a stable memory to scare away the remains of the devil.
Let that alcohol burn out the demons in your mouth, spitting venom on lovers, leaving them with doubt.
Just don’t choke on communion or those emotions. Swallow down a staining memory before it’s washed out.
My guilty conscience was a chaser for every broken rib, every shred of skin,
my selfish repentance, my need to feel clean just so I can copy and paste the same burden.
Rinsing cuts with alcoholic remedies to bury the pharisees, chasing my apathy with a need for attention.
A retention of amens to cover the blood drips and bloodshed of broken men

I let intentions hold more power than actions
and that's why I fall asleep alone
I sit here idly finding timely
spacing and phrasing while writing and scribbling
words of watered down angst and heartbreak
while my spirit runs wildly
How I envy my free spirit
And how I envy what I was supposed to be

I'm afraid to ask for solutions
Because I have to admit that I have none
Living in this mind of pollution
Hoping this soul dries up in the sun
And the pride I adopted
The high road seems like it's time to collapse
Living in this lie of conviction
Because I want to find some purpose

Forever is not relative, so tell me again if you've ever lied to me.
Life gathers sorrows, and sorrows gather in my head
and no one can die in vain, when no one is ever dead.
And all that's been revealed is all I can know
And all I can really do is learn to let go
And nothing is earned when I'm not awake,
And nothing is learned, even when nothing is gained.

watching your muscles ache from the stress in your back. waiting for your bones to break from the weight of what you lack. I would spend all my time helping you to find truth, and it cuts like a knife - knowing I can't save you. cause saying goodbye hurts the worst when you know it's a final word! it comes across like a curse! and I can't believe you said it first, so now the final word on the final page of the final chapter of this narrative we made. it's my weak consciousness whispering words to my mouth, the every word that I prayed would never come out. I kept linking on the past and hoped future would be the same, 'cause we would cry and laugh knowing was our remain.
and I would argue with God, every night I would lie awake and lie to myself, hoping all of this was fake! 'cause I got a new perspective on general aesthetics.
when you finally went to see Jesus, and all your family learn how to believe in a void, 'cause I saw they can see in us see red stroking broken words. my heart became a platform for everything I hated the most.
____________________________________________

it's not about being here for me, it's about respecting me enough to tell why you're not. so I'll just step back into my sleep, 'cause there's a demon in my casket and I think we're falling in love. and most nights I wish it was you.

They say it's hard to fall in love,
Maybe they never learned how to patiently wait.
They say it's always dark before the dawn
but you walked away before the dawn could break.

So who's really right in the end?
When you tore down th walls
but I'm the one alone in this bed?

Scream hallelujah until you cough up blood
Cause the devil came for our minds but left with our love
so I looked into myself for something I knew nothing about
found no solutions but found a lot of doubt
and slowly found out my heart was a trap door
waiting for the right one to fall in the center
so she would take a final bow and become mine forever
I found a pocket of comfort and acceptance and called it love

I think I’m losing you, but I will never regret choosing you
Because I am in love, and for now that will be enough
And the ones around me convince me that I was the only person who was dumb enough to believe that you and I had hope.
But now I know even after you began to let your emotions slow the only reason I stood alone was because I was the only one who knew our love was never going to let go.

Everyone wanted me to see that we could no thrive, so gouge out my eyes.
Because if this is reality then I guess I’m not alive,
Because I don’t know a life in where I can’t make things right.

What’s the point?

Can your so-called honesty predict revelations?

This trigonometry repeals all my innovations.

The angle set had no equation.

I chose to believe every word I was fed and I thought the coals on my back were a product of the lack you left when you stepped back and racked your brain for a reason to stay, but you could not seem to formulate any such thought in your head. So you left with nothing more than a reason you kept silent and my mind with riots stuck in self perpetuated mental violence and dreams kept private. The ambition to fix this wish list of selfish misfit realist missions contained within a vision of wishful thinking and sinking deep into a new bit of misproportioned emotions leaking through a seeping truth constructed by my need to feel important when you would look back and think of all the little things that you regret. I just want you to think of me when you think back to all those little things that you regret. I spent so much time convincing myself that the rest of this mess that I stressed within this relationship was a product of the world’s oppression, not my deep desire to be needed. And it’s hard to admit but I guess I’ve come to terms with the fact that I just want to be needed, and I convinced myself that I needed to be needed. And if that was true than I would still be smiling like you still today but for different reasons. I chose to dismiss the possible instance that the lips I love to kiss could form the words goodbye and it was a simple lie but I told you to and like the captain of a sinking ship choosing to believe the bottom of the ocean was a better source of oxygen. It’s so nice I still chose to believe I misinterpreted your dialect and your diction and dietribe, posture, body language and connotations, because they all pointed in the same direction the selection of contingent messages postponed until further notice because I was ashamed to admit the problem and pretend your happiness came from me and that your happiness was important. But we aborted the sorted truths we once distorted when I saw the shape of your dress when you wore it. And that was enough until it wasn’t and that’s when you finally felt supported. So the others courted you and you mentally recorded and endorsed the force perform of compliments you received when you felt empowered enough to take your final bow and find love within the arms of another instead of this heart of mine. And that’s fine because I would do the same, and I would leave me. Not because I’m useless and not because I’m broken, not because I’m sad and not because I’m worthless. But because I saw value in your smile but not in your values, and I’m sorry, and I love you. And that’s why I can finally sleep at night, because you are free and you can thrive, and I’m just happy I got to be apart of your life. I’m just happy I got to be apart of the journey that you call your life. I finally feel fine because I spent so long trying to change you, not realizing I was the one who needed to change. I was selfish to assume you loved me more than you love yourself even though I never felt the same. And there’s so many things that my selfishness tried to take away but you were the one that was the hardest to watch walk away. But thank you for letting me be a part of everything that you were building and creating and finding truth and life and you were relating to so much beauty, and I love you, and I’m sorry.
Thank you for letting me be a part of your journey. Thank you for letting me be me. Thank you for setting me free and showing me love in its full capacity.

Sometimes I feel like some sort of gold being.
I’m some sort of metal that only has purpose
When someone needs something.
People wouldn’t chase after me if it wasn’t for greed,
If it wasn’t for the purchasing of some sort of peace.
My hopes and dreams are put on display for all to see,
But under heat, they bend, they bleed.

It’s a dream, you and her in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
What if there was truth to the statement that first came love, then came marriage?
But it’s not that way. That’s not the song we sing;
Sex without a condom is the new engagement ring.
And the pain of rings, so demeaning.
I would change so much just to feel something.

And I said I was holding your heart, but it was just for show.

as the broken sleep,
death forgot to thank me when i set her free.
come empty and you won't need anything,
Believe in your own blood until your heart stops beating,
and then you too will be set free.
tear down your towers and build bridges,
your god is a fraud if you wrote the mission.
the devil will die when he has no witness,

Like a hunter in the woods looking for something
Without a plan you can't get anything
And imperfection drove me to see nothing
And that's why I'm not breathing
And imperfection makes more sense when put in the context of human existence
And I can say I promise truth to this
Even though I know I probably don't

I know I can't take anything with me
But I hope I can hold onto my memories

There are shapes in the patterns on the wall
I don't see people any more at all
My biggest weakness has become focussing on my weaknesses
Wisdom is a door with a key that's been lost in brokenness
Fractured the skeletons of who we were

I have these voices in my brain and I created them and I hate them, but I ask them to stay. Cause I have this fixation on death, this fixation on change, this fixation three years I grew out of pain. This fixation on sleep. This fixation on you and on me, but who could I be? I spent three years writing poems about a fixation on the past, and she told me it was worth it, because she told me it would last. But darling, I will hold my tongue as I hold you tight because forgetting what you think love means is my sleeping pill every night. I remember when you woke up and screamed “maybe our love is just laced with LSD, because darling, I’m high on life and you’re just high on me.” And as I tried my best to read between the lines, your lips shape words I try to interpret as lies, only to see the devil behind deep inside the details. As Lucifer found his way back into retail, my dear, he sold us a product we didn’t want to buy. But we weren’t trying to be original, we just trying to survive. The voices in my brain telling me it’s all in my head. I will sleep with one eye open but I won’t sleep until I’m dead. Cause a fair assessment of a existence is an inconsistent realist vision of selfish antics reduced to survival of the fittest defined by our ability to avoid those caring any sickness. And these whispers in my head intensify to raspy screams asking when my skull will explode so they can breathe. They know that no one has a voice when no one is listening and the violent riot of staying silent or quiet is torturous to those who need to hear something and that violence has its own sort of beauty. And you are my beauty. And you are my violent smile. And you are my violent prayer. And you’re not my oxygen but I breathe your air. ‘Cause these voices in my brain remind me of past mistakes, the beauty I found of being able to say, “Look what I went through, I survived.” But is survival living or is survival just a placeholder for a vacant mind to cut off the threat to coincide with the soil while their blood boils? ‘Cause my biggest fear was never facing death or even facing what happens after. My biggest fear was never facing anything like that. My biggest fear was waking up in that coffin with all these voices chanting a chorus of remorse, a forced abort from the course I had chosen. And now I’m laying here frozen with fear staring up at a splintering slab of wood paid for with my life savings buried beneath the earth that grew the weeds that poisoned my families feet. What if I woke up and walked back home and it was like nothing had happened? “We left your room the way you left it, we just scrubbed the blood stains out of the carpet, we just rubbed the mud remains out your pockets, we just dubbed the tough claims out of your sonnets. We just evacuated your room and hoped you would too but your spirit haunted it too long so we boarded it up moved along and watched it become a guest room. A place for the non-permanent inhabitants to exist in this home we created to raise our kid.” That was my biggest fear, finding out something like that would happen. ‘Cause the memories have come with this, only cause everything else to hurt deep inside of this dismissed feeling I feel. But sometimes you have to face the past. Maybe I’ve never faced death but if I were to walk away then what would I be? These voices in my head, what would they say and what would they see? Did I survive or am I cursed? Did I die or did I learn? What if I woke up and nothing happened? What if I never wake up? My dear, then what’s my purpose? What if I woke up and nothing happened? And darling, what if you woke up too?