I've seen the likes of one too many mornings.
The whole around my soul will not begin to mend.
I sought the light beyond my final calling.
The voices in my head won't ever end.
And as I tell you this my friend,
I hope that you can only see,
That we are cast into the river to be free,
But that is everything that I won't ever be.
Only high days.
Only high days ever get me down,
As you're no longer around.
Only high days ever get me down.
Your feedback helps jpb understand what's working
Writing to reach you. I might never reach you...
I'm an artist; a creator of my selves and all of their personalities. What they call well rounded is simply all of my wonderful characters dying for attention; an astounding example of massacre..
She is what reality could be. I'm flirting with a girl made up in head. She's been here before, she's my subconscious lover who changes form. Sometimes she follows and doesn't desist to observe.
Cutting away these translucent ropes. Slit the wrists of the standard approach..
Disorder is adorable..
Time; it's taking its sweet time erasing you..
Sit, slow down. Think. Is this worth it. Anger, The blood-red broth, Bubbling within, frothing, Waiting to spill from a mouth, Waiting to roll off a tongue, And poison the next.
We lament, Hoping for a listener. Can anybody hear our cries of pain.
'Cause we are broken. What must we do to restore our innocence and oh, the promise we adored. Give us life again cause we just wanna be whole..
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