Black as the night, my soul is worn deep. Cold to the touch, afar from a cliff that is steep. There are days where even the simplest tasks are hard. Like getting out of bed, or going the extra yard.
The scars I bare tell the story of regret. I’ve tried so hard to clean up my life that is a mess. Sucked into a black hole of never ending pain, here come along the town’s people to drive me close to insane.
I often try to hold back tears, fake a smile and look back over all these years. So worn out in my shoes, most days don’t feel worth it – on and on I am faced with a permanent decision in which I must choose.
Love is like suicide – take it or leave it, you must decide. I can dream of streams in the desert, dream of a love like no other. But as the blade cuts me through, making me feel good – it reminds me to always say that joyfully, I would. It’s that familiar sting that tells me to give up on this life, I should.
To take my mind off of my emotional weight, to cleanse me of all this hate. This nightmare never seems to end, forever I am broken with no hope – and this has my been my story ever since it began.