I like your shadow better than I like you. And oh, I'm terrified of what I'm jumping into. I'm scared, you're excited. I'm filled with dread, and you're delighted. It's been so cold and wet outside. But when you call, we'll all run and hide. My sight won't work for things so far away. Somehow I still see you every damn day. We're getting distant in the back of my mind. And oh, your reality isn't that far behind. Maybe this is boring. Maybe I'm bipolar. But singing to you is like ripping out my molar. I'm sorry that I don't know what I want all the time. I'm sorry that I'm horrible at speaking in rhyme.
So much passion and so many words and oh there is nothing in this world I wouldn't give to speak them to nations. If there was a glimpse of what you all could feel, of what chance no one ever takes, of what we all know we should do but we're stuck inside our heads.... if there was a glimpse of what we all know we need, a glimpse of that feeling, I'd put it into fire and let you all burn in it. That fire of pushing through our insecurities, and our complaints, to be lucky we're alive. I'd take the fire and pour it down their throats. There's always a reason that we choose to ignore. And there's always a rule that we put behind doors. No one has insides that are exactly the same, but I see most living on clichés and what we think we're supposed to say or do. My youth around me is fading away in disappointment. I have love for all the world with it's flaws and it's hatred and everything we wish it was.
Give me an essence that I can't build. Give me your philosophy and keep it in mind. We've got a long way to walk but the directions are short. It's a long lost creed in this broken down house, and we've all let out our demons that only our voice could cast. Carry it all until the birds fly away. Your words aren't loud anymore. Sinking in your flaws, covering up paths. Can't buy hope, can't push yourself. Like a pebble rolling down a hill, you're keeping it all to yourself. Open up these thoughts. Speak up, I can't hear. No one listens when you're talking to yourself. Nothing fits together anymore. Never had the right pieces. I spent seven years of love in a hospital for souls. There wasn't a cure for our weak and cut up hands, we'd worked our fingers to the bones fighting for our justification. We never even whispered, we spoke in smiles. There was never any reason to jump over the hill, we had it all together until we went outside. Oh, we went outside. You spoke for the first time.
The sun is in my eyes but not in the trees.
The clouds are moist but only I feel the rain.
The flies are swarming your kitchen and they're stuck in the windows.
We don't meet half way because we don't meet at all.
I tried giving you what you wanted, but you don't know what you want.
And these words may be so simple, but they're all you'll ever get.
And these days may be so short lately, but they seem so long to me.
Box after box filled with our different memories.
Our memories clash and you'll argue that I was too young.
The sunlight screeches through the tree's and stings my eyes.
I had to look up though.
I had to attempt to see your next step.
Your next verdict.
Your next accusation.
That lullaby shouldn't be playing.
I've heard it far too much.
It's not time for sleeping yet, not that that fimiliar song would help, though.
I'm exhausted but sleep is foreign to my brain.
I'm ill and so are they.
I'm smiling but I'm empty and there's nothing you could change.
I don't think it should happen this way. But I don't think we're all the same.
The way we think and the way we move, has plagued my mind since I shook your hand.
The way and what you choose to see, isn't up to me anymore.
I don't know why I'm in this.
You spark nice thinking rarely.
I don't think I'm wasting my time.
Maybe time is always wasted.
Maybe my time isn't worth that much anyways.
I miss the way everyone was pissed off at each other secretly.
I miss old friends. They were so good to me.
I've found a light in this darkness, but she's still so far away.
I don't know what to do with myself here.
All I do is put off cleaning and swipe your cigarettes.
Bon Iver has soothed my soul, when I don't need it that bad.
I don't need many things that bad.
I know that nothing
My mind is plagued by versa, tattoos, beulah, worries, animosities with no meaning but with strong boundaries, lyrics, legacies, and coffee.
I'm okay with being on my own right now, I'm still learning what exactly that is.
I'm young and I don't expect myself to be taken too seriously, and I don't think I want that either, most of the time.
I'd just like someone to have an aspiration that speaks in depths.
I'd like someone to teach me how to love someone with my whole heart without fear. Apparently there's no fear in love.
There's always something to slow me down, more than often times that is myself and only myself.
Your arrogance infatuates me, in the most vile of motion. My words have let me down to an extent, and a small one at that. I'm dying for the smallest understanding of what you're after, where this is leading. the path is dirty and full of holes to fall in. There's never a given security, and that's what I strive on. I'll dodge these holes, and like unlike alice, I'll find my own white rabbit.
Your car is broken and so are you.
I adore you with every ounce of my existence.
You're the gypsy and you're the most humble.
What you deserve will come soon enough.
Your hands are dirty from these past and future tribulations,
but your heart is pure, and so is your mind.
Harris, you disgust me.
You're a disgrace.
Drove up into my driveway, ready to make the call.
Your screams and ranting has thrown her down.
You're the reason for my sister's past torment and wounds.
You're the reason that we've all been torn to shreds.
You're the reason I'm stuck in this ash covered place.
You couldn't stop yourself, could you?
"I won't say what I want to."
Ha, you don't have to.
You've said enough, and your actions have been repeated.
You're stuck in repeat, putting us all in spirals.
And my darling Kathryn has hidden under her bed.
She shut herself away from the world and confided in the gypsy.
Her brown golden eyes are so innocent now.
Behind them fury without a spoken reason.
My stomach is growling, and so am I.
I'll condense my words when I'll give you the answers.
In Taylor's mind, you've been killed a thousand times.
There will always be a lost source of enjoyment and necessity.
There has always been.
There has always been a fallback, in the unseen back of my mind.
I've forgotten again and again what will never leave me.
Among other things, you've come and gone again.
You're standing in front of me, and I don't know who you are.
Harris you raised me, and taught me to give.
Give what you pushed me to earn.
And to keep what you took from everyone else.
Olivia rolls in her grave, every second of the day.
Harris, you forgot what she taught you.
Your own "morals" can't be swallowed.
You accept what is easy, and you spread this infection.
Olivia, in her oldest age, if still were present, would have forgotten the word "approval".
WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?
What is your "motivation"?!
Gypsy Faye, she slammed herself on the bed in tears.
The meaning of her speech has been looked over, and the literal sense has been torn out. Contini has ripped her to pieces, with so much aid from you, Harris.
Five years ago, I didn't try to imagine.
I forced myself to ignore the beginning, a small seed of Faye's withered garden in which Christ has been an undying flower.
I tried to give Harris the hammer, but he ranted about a ladder that belonged to the father of Faye.
I don't have a reason to believe in futures.
I don't have a reason to believe what you tell me.
I don't have a reason to abide by your by second altering laws.
And I don't have a reason to keep my head above water.
-Bailey Rhodes
I don't remember today but I do remember sleeping. I don't remember you but you're the reason I am weeping. I don't remember what you said last night, but I remember that it stung. And I don't remember dying but I remember that you killed me. I wish I wasn't in this place. That we were in a faraway time. That there wasn't a reason to care to rhyme. I wish that there wasn't anymore dust. I wish that what you thought wasn't always a must. I've become so frustrated with every dismal thing. I've become so hardened to whatever cry over. I've become so extreme in my thinking, and I can't stand it at all. I'm so critical and I feel just too small.
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