my meadow

The kind of pretty one could write storys about

The kind of pretty i could fill sketchbooks with

I want what she has, i want you

If you'd only let me i would paint you, carve you in paper a thousend times

Saw you for a second in my dream... now im damned to think about you the whole day

Someday i will kill myself, not on purpose but because i fail

How long can one keep pulling themself out of ravines they pushed themself in

And in a thousend years i won't ever let my circumstances enslave me.

My mind is not free to rent, stop inhabiting it.

I beg you, cut me. Cut me so deep that i will never dare to touch you again

Why? I acted perfectly lunatic when I tried to prove I'm worth it