strange creatureswhat have the years madethese current daysquestions blurring togetherthings stop making sensestill just a broken childwithout the ability to live this life.i dont know if this is a preludeor an obituaryyou'll see later on i guessbeginnings and ends are the same thingafter all is only beforejust tell me you wont be a martyrthat is the only thing i want not anotherliving bomb.as this grip on realitybegins to slip awayive stopped listening to wordsbegun reading lipsso the words make more sensebut they still all mean the same thingfor continuity's sakejust fragile beings we'll die left alone.
4.27.07Started stepping in the puddles whenI figured out I'd miss youFeeling the cold against my feetWondering about lost chances-Sorry you're paying for my past too.After l;eaving wonderedam I insane for the pain I'm feeling?Or am I just a dog on their chainParaded like a duty, obedienton threat of the loss of my soul.Call me wrong, selfishfor not focusing on the happiness..Mabye this is what always pulled me down?But having those who know nothing of mehaving control of me..Is like hands closing arouns my neck.What you see are stifled screams.Once the panic has subsidedAnd the anger levels offall thats left is a dull acheI'm humanI've failed, hurt youI miss youI'm sorry..And though theycan take me physicallyI am yours heart, mind, and soul.
TeethYou don't like me?I'm not yoursMy imperfections make me who I amand while I may notcompletely love themwhat I am today is morethan what you'll ever be.That's why youand your judgementsand you're distinctions of right and wrongmean nothing to meI defy you, everything you representhas let me down.And those people that do love methe ones who'se opinionsmean anything to medon't mine my personalityfor imperfections and weaknessesto exploit.They're not as sick as you,so shut the fuck upand go get some seriouspsychological help.
EnoughYou are never....goodstrongfastsmarthonestthinprettytalentedalivesoberdeadtrustworthyselflessperfect....enough.
luckyso mabye this is a little bitof an autobiographybut thats a name i've hadfor myself over the yearslucky.when it comes togetting out of scrapesor staying in one piecewhen no one ever should havethat was me.there's a group where i gosometimes on good daysthey say 'i'm a miracle'and i guess that that applieswe'll see.the future's a gambleas much as the past andi can only pray that dreamsor hopes will come to be and last-that i stay lucky.
requiemthat personthey knewthat wouldseek onlyto destroythe onethat ranthrough lifeheedlesslyhas begunto diedont knowwhat it wasyears of therapyor the drugsmabye heartachejust straight painin the faces of thosewho loved heras they watched herfail againshe's gone away nowdont know whereor wheni only figured this outstanding in frontof a shelfin a gas stationfull of deathdrugs androck n' rollthe things thatused to make mewho i amand i turned away.
holeholeopento the worldtry to closeburnedthe layersbeneathothersbeneath the outsidenot supposed tocontactleftexposedholei see bloodjust as you open againnever bleednever heallighter's printon meholecovered nowby a bandagewon't you heal?the worldis too dirtytoo dangerousfor youto be exposed.