You know you're dealing with an idiot if you ask a tough question and they scratch their ass.
Don't abuse your muse.
The truth is out there ... and it's out to get you!
Hope is a whore.
My love is a heartbeat. Sometimes it's weak, or hard to detect; it might stutter, but it's still there. And you don't have to worry about it stopping, because it won't until the day I die.
Poetry is my devious scheme to paint in your head every image I can't draw.
So kill me to see if I'll bleed.
Freshmen are cattle. Barbeque at my house!
Red means stop, but I'm bleeding green.
You become accustomed to pain
until it never hurts anymore
and you're lying in bed one day
wondering what you're crying for
The slowest, most painful way to die is to live.
Nothing to worry about; I'm perfectly insane.
You can't deny reality. It gets a kick out of bitch-slapping you.
Existing is exhausting.
Pain to them is a blemish on their painted faces; fear is a movie prop; hate is a rivalry. And I am an idiot.
Your sugar rots in my mouth and I loath to swallow, but dare not waste it.
May your dickless chicken children rot in hell for what you've done!
I am that mysteriously intriguing stranger that you don't want to let go of. Like some adventure, you want to dive in and find out all there is to know. But when you know it, the shroud crumbles and there is only the insecure, trembling, huddled mass of a falsity, trying to be a dream.
You marvel at my depth while tying anvils to my feet. You push me off the edge and wonder why I fall so hard. You break me where the wound's still healing, but hate my brittle heart.
To put doors in your mind, you must first tear the walls out.
Letters cover distance, and they cover the truth. They can't contain it.
How you would topple, crushed beneath your fine demise. And, rejoicing, I would suffer to believe you're finally mine, just to hate you all more fully.
I dont need to scream for you to deem me aggravation.
And then he crept away, as silently as his approach, disappearing like a glint of sunlight, missed in the blink of an eye.
Who strive to be better than themselves.
There is a way I would be, but it means I'll be losing me.