I keep telling myself everything will be fine, but "myself" has an attitude and realizes that's a lie.
I know that you've changed me, but I'm not ready to admit it yet. Changing for anyone wasn't on my mind, but I think lies were fed.
So the rational part of me claims it's like every other time, while the part of me you let speak loud and clear is the part that likes to rhyme.
The slice of me I get down on paper, yeah I'd managed that "me" for years. Keeping her hidden and quiet wasn't smart, it was just strengethening fears.
Back to the very beginning is the boy that has no soul. Living paycheck to paycheck, chemical feelings don't get old.
Maybe this is just a repeat. Except this time, I'm much more alone. And I have nothing to help me forget. Something to keep me stoned.
Nothing can phase me, isn't that right? I can trust my own instinct. Even in the beginning, I knew you'd be gone in a blink.
At this point I've convinced myself I'm not quite in hell, but everythings not quite fine if I have to talk to myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment