Histuu-na

There have been so many days You've hurt me in so many ways You've left me so broken Like I'm just some token Was I just a prize to be won? And then wanted when I was gone Well now I'm leaving you Not knowing what to do Where do I even belong? When you've been lying all along You left me out in the cold Like I'm something to be sold Where do I go? When you're all I know I feel like such a fool Thinking you were cool I'm going nowhere Because you don't care I have nothing left But this pain in my chest Do you know what you're doing to me? I know I'll never be free I'm just so broken now I need to move on somehow Where d

What is this feeling of rage that I just can't stop? I'm breaking myself so hard I wonder when I'll drop. I keep hearing every blow with such a resounding pop. It's almost like the bad days when I was hit with a mop. I can't help but wish for my complete destruction. I just want to find out out if it is my function. The good days are over, when I was in construction. I belong to this horrid hell and now is my induction. Forever, it seems, is how long it will take. Never will I be allowed to just somehow break. No one ever listens to any of the calls I make. It only seems as if I have nothing at stake. I'm being blown away like a t

Once upon a time I used to be whole and carefree. Not long after you came around and destroyed me. I'm dying and I continue to crumble under this sea. The tears I cry bury me because of who I cannot be. Sometimes I just want to run away, I want to flee. I keep falling further into darkness, I can't see. It all falls on your deaf ears, my whispered plea. It doesn't matter how I ask, even on my bent knee. Once upon a time I used to be blissfully young, caught unaware. It wasn't long before your evil came to me pretending to care. Now I can't do enough to try and forget about the scars I bare. All I want to do is squeeze so hard until

"I wish you would give it back to me." "Why? You'll just break it again." "It's my heart. I will do whatever the hell I want with it." "Yeah? Well, you take terrible care of things that are yours." "Fine. Keep it. I am equal parts concrete and soul anyway." "You say that, but I'm not entirely sure that you are. I think you're deep, and fragile and broken, and that makes you beautiful." "Again, concrete and soul. " "I wish you wouldn't make this so hard." "So hard? I'm making this easy. You gave me dreams of half feathered swans and a stupid house on an endless beach and a city made of an ocean, and now you're taking it all away. But a