|
| WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING FROM ANYONE OTHER THAN YOU?!!! | | |
| I'm in search of logic
and methodology
every time your anatomy
appears in from of me.
It seems that I do not comprehend
rhyme nor reason
I feasts on pretenses
and lack male fortitude
This thing called love
disallows me to stand me ground
Like if it has broken my ankles
If I get up
I'll just fall again
If you're around nothing is useful
for this...
Many times attempted
To bury you in memory
Even if I say "enough"
It's always the same story
It seems your "love"
always know how to make me sigh so deeply
it makes me loopy
it makes me brave the world
If I could exorcise you voice
If I could escape you name
If I could only rip my heart out
I would run and hide
So that I may never feel:
tired, fat, ugly, dingy
clumsy, dumb, slow, stubborn, crazy
completely uncontrollable
you notice this
but say nothing
like when my head becomes unrestful
but you know, you remain safe
It's not like
you listen to what I say
just please let me know
in which path in your head i will stay
I'm guessing
it will the one in which I remain
dumb, blind, deaf,
clumsy, asinine, pigheaded.
Because of you I've become
something that does nothing
but love you.
I think of you night and day.
Not knowing how to forget you.
LOVE IS TOTALLY LAME | | |
| I am think I may be done trying. Why should I wait? Why should I bother? What is love, but a second hand emotion?
It is three o'clock in the goddamn morning, I have to go to work tomorrow. But yet, I still think about him. When will this all end?
I am tired of this.
Loving someone who does not love you back is total shit. I would never wish this feeling upon anyone.
| | |
| I guess this is the part where I say, "Here we go again." I cannot keep all the bullshit to myself all the time. It is not healthy.
I stood still until I felt the shakes of two bodies that were parting ways. I didn’t want to be the one to say, "I know this hurts but it’s time to break... in two pieces," the fault line is not secure. Now a boat or bridge is needed to get back to him. I make mountains out of my worries; and I plant pain instead of sturdy trees. I have got to wash these old sheets, so I can fall asleep. There are times in which I reach for the phone to tell you that there might still be some hope. Holding on to the slack of metaphorical rope, but that’s the whiskey talking though. I hope that you can find some peace in life. Can you survive without me? ‘Cause I thought I’d be fine. Plus the only way I would be able say anything, would be if I was slurring every single line.
This isn’t fair, nobody taught me how to let go. "Just be here now and you’ll be set free from sorrow," that is what I want to hear and at this time. If I can’t see clearly, then how will I know? What the FUCK is point? What is the FUCKING meaning?
Now I’m struggling, I blackout so I can’t dream, but I still see you sneaking through my weary head. I suffer from a drought of medicine to dull self-doubt. I just want to drown you out with southern poison. If I had a drink for every God dammed time I think about your pale skin. Then at least I could sleep. If I had a shot for every God damned time I thought about your face and what I've lost. At least I’d get some sleep.
| | |
| Rejection, like failure, is not flattering.
I give blood to prove to myself that I can matter to somebody else.
Is what makes a man the dirt on his hands?
If so, don't put your faith in the desert sand,
Because the wind is always blowing.
There are gallows deep inside my lungs, that's where I hung ambition.
Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984.
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
And I open my umbrella even when I am indoors,
So, give me seven more.
I give blood not for the cause, but to slowly give up the person I was.
Holding my breath won't help, everything went to hell,
So now I steal back pennies from the well because my wishes failed.
I am screaming at my own shadow to stop living like a ghost.
I don't need him; I'm not that desperate.
Come visit me in twenty years and maybe then
'Cause I'm not done screaming yet
You can call off the intervention, 'cause I don't need your attention.
I don't need him; I'm not that desperate.
I don't need him; I'm not that desperate. | | |
|
|
Current Mood
|
|
|
