Broken Thoughts

The signs were there all along
Lighting the way for the climax
Illuminating the inevitable fall
Who does this to them to themselves
Statistically speaking one and the same
Reality couldn’t be any further apart
Looked so good on paper
It had to work at least once
What could all this really mean
To someone who doesn’t care
I gave up but we took turns
Statistically speaking one or both should be dead by now
Still fucking breathing in all the pain
Still thinking about all the shit never said
If we can’t be honest then why worry about the truth
Inhuman to think this all began with a lie

 

65 pages on the same thought
Six albums and I’ve already forgot
Therapy couldn’t be any simpler
If only it had worked the first time
Revisiting the same sad thoughts
That makes me so fucked up
Dancing with the devil couldn’t release these demons
Gods warm embrace hasn’t done much to subside the pain
Out of options and ways to say
I hate you
So I’ll see you there
Pretend to not care but I always will
No matter how much I stab at the thoughts
Burn them down and piss on the ashes
They will still be there, we will still be here

 

Skin
The skin bleeds as the knife digs deeper
My skin spreads open revealing bone
The skin peels back as I pull
My skin lies in a pile on the floor

The skin is a metaphor for something I don’t know
My skin is missing but I am whole

Can you see everything you’ve become
Every little thing you have done
Like memories burning in the sun
I feel every ray and question why
Reflecting on nothing at all
In some way became something
Each and everything
Apart of something bigger
Picture unclear, vision blurry
Think one day I’ll know
By then it will be too late
Time has a way of reflecting on things
Now is not the time or place
But at the end does it all make sense

 

I really like playing the asshole, the liar, the thief it’s so much easier than it is to be me.  I just can’t take the loneliness. I’m lonelier now than I was before I gave it all up. The voices in my head have taken over and there is no telling what they have or haven’t said at this point. The long conversations I once had have given into a world that I have created. My life has been a long spiral down to this point. I’m at the bottom and I really don’t feel any worse than when I was at the top. Gone are the days where anything makes sense, the days of innocence, and the days plagued by truth. Here and now is hell. No longer am I waiting to grow up. Now I’m just waiting to die. I’ve never felt any more at home than I do now…

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