I don't want to talk about it,
i don't think you'd understand,
how things can get so fucked up
with such good intentions
If roofs turn to sky,
held by the gravity of nothing,
an ironic and literal making of a bed
You can walk away,
but there is a reason to stay
they make bad jokes,
it's okay not to laugh
For every push foward,
feels like you get
the same fucking push back
When you had nowhere to go,
you found someplace,
now with nothing to say
you start lying
What the fuck was i thinking (you ask)
i'm not sorry...
i'd do it all again
Now with all the lines
so blurred between hate, love, and revenge
these are just dead feelings.