hooked on phoenix.

I wish for something that could never come true That I had never gotten myself wrapped up in you It's not just that I can't go back in time Even if I could, I don't think I would prevent your crime My heart aches, but it's learned so much No longer will it fall for a snake with a gentle touch Who knows what troubles would have awaited me Had you not forced me to go crazy. You wish for something that could never come true I know this for sure and you prove me right, too Although I'm not so sure it's really me that you want It's retribution. It's the guilt inside you that's causing the haunt You brought this on yourself. For someone so smart I thought you'd have figured out that you broke your own heart So send all the messages you want and yeah, I will read them But don't think I'll ever respond. You created this thorn on my stem So go ahead, prick yourself.

"It just didn't work out" The biggest understatement I'll ever say But there's no easy way to explain Why it had to be that way The tears have dried But the heartache still remains Not out of love But for the things in me that were ripped away. "You have a beautiful smile" Thanks, But I'm sure it brings you more joy than me. I don't know if I'll ever be normal again. I'm not even convinced I ever was But at least I had some sense of security Some trust for other people Some willingness to let my guard down and be open To allow people to come in, even though it may hurt Now I can hardly bare the risk. How funny, I think, That you play the martyr so well When you were the one Who threw all the stones.

I used to think anxiety was the root, but upon recent reflection I think it’s the depression. I’ve been starting to question whether I’ve always been this way, or if there was a time where I was truly, deeply, consistently happy. But I think denial has been clouding my vision, because I only really have clear memories of despair. It’s existential and the fault of my potential, a bittersweet reality without a solution. My thoughts are constant pollution. My brain is drowning in emotion-tainting smog. I don’t believe there’s an end, except for The End…but that does not satisfy me. Nothing ever does.

I'm drunk and in a funk How do I help it My heart's sunk Is there hope? I think nope Sliding down a slippery slope Why am I being such a mope? I don't know Everything is slow And where does it go? Nowhere.

So self-indulgent it makes me want to throw up Why don't you grow up Or just go home where you can be alone Isn't that what you prefer? Spending all your time on your pretty long hair Oh, I didn't see you there Your ego was in the way, but you don't care Inflation is the only thing that keeps you in the air Like an emotional air bag for your soul What you'd do without it, you don't even know Maybe you'd drown in the stormy sea that is your mind It's just too bad you can't find anybody that's your kind

I just want a guy who reads books And likes to tell me how red my hair looks Who admires me, because he thinks I’m funny and smart And looks at me like I’m a work of art I’m searching for a smile that makes me melt inside Making me feel things I’ve never felt for other guys Maybe I’m delusional, looking for my own version of Prince Charming A modern Romeo without the self-harming Are you even out there? I don’t know But deep in my heart, I really hope so.

So here I am, crawling back to you as I’m sure I will be until I’m in my grave Coffee, you dark, distinguished charmer I am forever your caffeinated slave.

...A dead end?

Just like this.

The Smiths, “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”

One minute I’m a butterfly, then suddenly I’m a robot. Couldn’t there be a happy medium? Sure. But in my experience, there’s not.

It’s not pragmatic, but enigmatic; both fantastic and problematic…. Erratically anticlimactic.