whitexpony

Not a rare occasion I find myself wondering what I did to deserve this treatment. Did I love you too much? What words, uttered from my breath broke the code of morality? "I thought id let you know im going to bed. Goodnight.". I thought i'd let you know, I have expectations. I thought id let you know that I am in pain and it is your fault. I am not cancer, I am not radiation. I will lead you through the chemical storm. Alas, the unwilling cannot follow. A person cannot write lyrics if they have never heard a song. Comparisons grow old and weak with age. Lacerations made in thine heart, felt throughout the world..the world has not felt a burde

Here I am. Each night is an infallibale lie or a broken promise. Each turned corner is a wilted petal. Every song I write, generic, inferior to everyone elses. What good is a name when one is just a face amongst a crowd? Precious hours of the night slip from my hands, sleep has become a bad habit. The almost unnecissary virtue of sleep and relaxation lies far ahead, beyond my weakened reach. I await the day I can sleep, the day of my passing. Will i be erased? Will i be remembered? It does not matter. When I die, I will sleep. I will be content in my rest and my passing. I can almost taste it. I feel it drawing near, yet still slightly out of

broken entity fly through the empty field. approaching something undesired something which appears unexpectedly. you need not know what lies ahead, for it frightens the weak and feeble a breed such as yourself reduced to the empty fields broken and bound to sorrow a new level of pathetic a whole new race of simpleton civilians aimlessly wandering, broken entities.. flying through empty fields.

concealed behind your smile, concealed behind the brink of happiness. i compose music of a destructive nature performed in a violent orchestra. your words, though encrypted are transparent to my eyes of past knowledge. i cant save us now, we're drowning slowly. segragation has demolished walls of emotion the rays of the sun poison the flesh of the followers as the zepplin deflates and collides with the asylum - the patients flee into the moonlight obscure letters with obscured passages, new concepts to be liquidated an endless repition of a countenance, the recollection which drives me further broken glass inhaled slicing the pro