when you deny love for the first (fifth seventh eighty-ninth) time, you can't help but feel like you're missing out on hand holding and sucking face a little more than usual. you're repeating the same five (six ten twenty-three) songs over and over again because it makes you feel nostalgic (sad unwanted loved). no, you're just misunderstood.

the only thing i can see when i look in the mirror are heavy bags that make me beautiful (nervous tired ugly) but that's only what you said. and i can't believe anything you say anymore. i gave a blessing to you and your girlfriend (whore trash leftovers) because i want you to be happy. it doesn't matter what i want anymore except that i want you to be happy. that's all i'm asking (needing hoping praying) for. give me that one thing please.

i miss (want need love) you. i'm not denying it. just leave him alone. i can't just stop living for what i'm here for. but i can practice stroking melodies out of cold ivory keys. maybe then i'll find a sanctuary (haven heaven hell) to be safe in. a little white room away far away from you (her him life). it's not exactly running away.

he too can lure beauty (wishes luck me) out of a dull grand piano. better than i can. it's not a sorrowful thing when i can see just his back. that's another nice thing about another one i can't seem to have. i am fictional, made of pretend (plastic cardboard a little bit of glitter) and everyone knows pretend melts away eventually, leaving dead rainbows in the carpet. and he just walks right over them too, just like me.

it's almost that time again. to wish on a number that never gives when it gets so so so very much (little fake hidden). like i really care when i can't give two thoughts to my gameboard called reality. my bed will be empty and vacant forever, but that's not what scares me most. don't leave me alone to deal with my demons, i can't survive recklessly.