three a.m. blues- and I'm without an out of tune guitar
no dull-plucked strings of sorrow, to sing my dreams goodnight

-
physically. mentally- left wondering if it even matters
because a broken heart may mend.
but nothing second-hand is ever as enduring
[alluring]. or worth fighting for.
dying for. or risking another lie to try and save

and when we're broken-
it's so easy to understand the meaning of nothing.
to see the cracked/fractures and split seams
believing in a being of delusion

you are my dream, and I am your nightmare
feet shaking. cold: falling out of your bed alone
clutching the stone-cold promises
from those lips that said
they'd never leave you alone
now we're thrown into an abyss- of sorts
dismissed by the world.
bored. torn apart and fed to the wind.

-
begin:anew
and you are my masterpiece
and we are diseased- displeased with what we can't have
stabbing toward a new world of disorder
with hour-glass tears- fearing tomorrow. drowning our sorrows
[in lies]

and it's me that you despise-




[we watched the stars fall down- breaking the sky
and your eyes were on fire. burning me like a comet
towards the pit of my heart.

we walked away from oblivion- clutching yesterday's promises
in our sweaty palms. and dreaming of ink-penned disasters
giving away our loves- waiting for them to be sold
because nothing in this world ever lasts- just remnants
of what we strove our lives to become.

left-over relics of love and pain.

emotion.devotion- and everything in between: slowing it down-
we're lost and alone- always. so. alone]


-dream. my dear, they can't hear you
and you're better off on your own