It’s so tempting to let you out-
To make use of the glass in my nightstand.
I’m so tired of fighting this off;
of walking barefoot all over my father’s glass.
I know a cut can be sewn shut,
a wound can be cleaned.
But how many times can I bleed before someone notices?
Will they ever?
It’s not a razor.
But it sure as hell cuts like one.
It’s like a rock in the back of my mind,
weighing back potential with each liberty I take.
They all say: “look on the bright side! You just need to get out some more!” Everyone knows all the answers.
It’s not like I knew what I could be getting myself into.
It’s not like I could see this kind of thing getting out of hand I swear.
They all say: “look on the bright side! You just need to get out some more...”
No, I’m not out.
I’m not done trying.
I’m not deceiving myself into thinking I’m alone,
or that this lasts forever.
I’m not convinced that I’m woefully misunderstood,
or that I feel more pain than he or she.
I’m not asking for help.
I’m not asking for you to save me.
I’m not asking for you to save me.
I’m just asking for reason for the sinking.
I’m just asking for reason for the loss of myself.
I guess I’m looking for strength behind an answer,
instead of looking for justification of myself.
Sometimes you say what you say just to get through the day,
But I can no longer afford the luxury of lies.
Do you ever tell yourself “No I’m doing just fine"?
But I can no longer afford the luxury of lies.
It's not a razor.
But it sure as hell cuts like one.
It's like a gun to the back of my head, weighing back potential with each fucking thought I make.
I ask him and I say “is it so wrong that I picked one and you picked the other? They both achieve a means to an end don't they?”
It’s not like I knew what I was getting myself into.
It’s not like I saw this kind of thing getting out of hand.
But I am young, I am naïve.
It’s such a long time. Such a long time.
Oh god I wish I’d picked the other some days.
And there’s a part of me that tries to scream I never had a choice…
and maybe I never did.
But I’ll end my own life before I renounce my responsibility as a person who tried.
I know a cut can be sewn shut,
and that a wound can be cleaned.
But how many times can I bleed before someone notices? (Or it all bleeds out?)
I know a cut can be sewn shut,
and that a wound can be cleaned.
But how many times can I bleed before someone notices? (Or it all bleeds out?)
Will they ever?
Sometimes you say what you say just to get through the day,
But I can no longer afford the luxury of lies.
Do you ever tell yourself “No I’m doing just fine”?
But I can no longer afford the luxury of lies.
Oh god I wish I’d picked the other some days. Oh god I wish I'd picked the other some days.
I wish that I could say I never had a choice.
This is all i have
i left a piece of me
beneath those rolling hills and trees
so you wont for get me
i wont sleep
beneath the shade
of trees
i wont sleep
I have dug this grave
i build a casket for two
the inside only reads blue
velvet and smooth
the dirt that chokes me
is the same that chokes you
We will use these windows as doors
ill use them to enter your soul
i dug the grave
i built the casket
i tasted dirt
i choked on it
i wont sleep beneath the shade of trees
we'll watch the leaves fall and bleed
I wont sleep beneath the shade of trees
We'll bury our hearts
We put so much trust in each other
I promise that i would try and save you
With these paper legs
I promised i would try and save you
Watch them fold away
I could write the book on self doubt
publish and turn it into self harm
but the faith in my words are weak
i gave up hope that they will carry me
Under my eyes i keep my black bags
that i fill with every late night charade
Every whisper that could never fade
I've tipped almost every bottle
to find a ship at sea sinking
You wanted me to save you
well these trembling hands couldn't pull through
we were for ocean waves crash over our lungs
At sea where we learned to breathe
These late summer nights
I'm six drinks in and falling asleep
Ill become a chalk line for all to see
I have been told there's no hope
I'm a story for broken hearts
No sign of blessings no signs of light
I'm starting to think i enjoy it
countless hours of feeling nothing and empty
or maybe im still searching for who i am
an endless journey just searching
its hard to pick your self up
when the thoughts in your head
come to you like breathing
Its hard to pick your self up
when the light you need is retreating
Ill become a chalk line for all to see
washed away from spring rains
i hope summer finds me
bury me under the fall leaves
let me burn beneath winter trees.
one day we will figure this out.
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