Sticks And Stones

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Break my bones.
The despair is killing me

You are all so empty

I want to cry
I want to scream
There is an overload
And I know no release

I can’t stop crying
I don’t know why
Every night I curl up and want to die

Silence in my world
Sorrow in my steps
Burn it
Burn it

Pound the pavement
Harder, Harder
Bang the drum and make it louder
Writhing in your sullen grave
Take the pill that’s all the rage

Don’t worry.

I want to have a home again
I want to live alone again
I want to go to sleep again

There is shame in my voice
When I speak to myself
There is a stranger in my mirror
I do not understand this lack of will

It is going to take so long.

You ask for too much
Things I just can’t give

It’s not you it’s only me

Death and darkness
Suicide and sleep
These are the themes I talk about
These are the things I seek

Hanging
_____On words that are never spoken
_____On plans that are always broken
The friendly spark
_____Always burns my hands

When you almost broke my heart
You almost set me free

Maybe if I couldn’t feel
It wouldn’t have hurt like that
A more acute sensation is preferable
A constant burn
Slow, steady to win the race
Rather than sensation I cannot identify
Agony that has no name
This tomb of an unknown soldier

The face is pretty enough
But the body’s a disgrace
The heart is colder than any you’ve known
The mind is sharp as it stabs you

Build it inside of me
Move it through me
This soul of an artist

Doesn’t belong to me

Give me a reason
To stay in this grand green world
Because I don’t want to breathe your wretched stagnant air

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