the broken hearts club

How I always want to die;

Always excited for my soul’s exchange?

Isn’t it strange?

How fast my mind can change,

When I feel Death close by?

Isn’t it strange

How I always want to die?

The words echo in my head as a constant reminder—an overwhelming scream—that things don’t always have to be like this.

But I continue. I push, and I torture myself. A constant convincing that I don’t deserve anything better. When did I get this fucked up? What do you call a hopeless romantic that doesn’t believe in love? Real love?

Why am I so afraid of finding it?

I had turned on the TV, but it was merely background noise to my loud thoughts. I sipped my hot coffee— it was late at night, and my thoughts sent me spiraling, but for some reason I wanted to stay awake. Maybe, I thought, the moon would whisper to me the answers I so badly wanted.

Or maybe I just wanted to hear the rest of the world’s silence. There’s some peace in knowing the world is quiet when your mind is so loud.

Nobody is ever going to prove to me that

Things get better.

A heart break hurts;

I know

Love only ever destroys.

I believe that nobody can convince me that

Love is beautiful.

(now read from bottom, up.)

If I were to do anything at all,

I would make sure I was to take the fall.

I take the risks and you still cannot see,

That your love still continues to hurt me.

If you hated the sunset then I would

Reach to repaint it if only I could.

If the sea was the wrong color to you,

I would do everything to turn it blue.

If you loathed the trees with only one leaf,

I’d glue them back on to shelter your grief.

Tell me, how it is when I start to weep

You can still rest your eyes and fall asleep?