Still something I should try.

I was thinking about over thinking at night And how I can't sleep, Thinking what could of been, What should of been And what could or should I of changed. Too many memories, So many of the worst. Pains me to think and try and recall loved ones and my favourite moments with them, And how would they see me now, How have I changed? Better or worse, Still rocking and trying to chip away at the curse. Some days I feel I'm getting there, others well it could be a worse.

not too happy so i lie

Tomorrow is a new day well so was yesterday at one point, and i dont know if it is just me but the only time i feel excited is when im drunk. im numbing the feeling wishin i could be a normal human being again, but is it to late to fix and make amends? or is yesterday a new day that never came?

It's the small crimes, the white lies, The good and bad times, Holding on too long for something which wasn't worth the burden. But I can't help holding on for you, And worse still, to you, worse still what else would I hold on to?

The Crutch i use to cut Myself.

Death is such an unspeakable insult, why can't I be forever. Did you leave the bin out? Wrong night... .. . Still hell to pay, on my phone in a restaurant telling the person on the other end how could it be possible to feel this way? She wanted more then I was willing to give in such a public place, and i just couldn't say about the feelings that wont go away. I couldn't hear too well but I made the most of what I could, answering questions that I could never really tell the truth. The room is in charge, and the light when fully charged turns blue. But then what else can you do? Got to work a way round this, more then a crutch, because there is nothing worse then the feeling when it isn't her that could of been, but wasn't, just passed. I wish I was a better sleeper. I shouldn't take these tablets for a crutch, but then again sleep means so much. Like a lay in, I'm not sleeping. More dancing, no peeking.

Call me Guilty Call me Frail

Travelin for miles with only broken glass in my pockets. my mind splintered, my heart no longer whole, and every hole an own goal. Nothing pure just let go. And who'll phone the taxi cause it's probably time we should go. I don't know if it was real, or really made up. But I'am split in two between the monster and the child that won't grow up. so hurry up the place is empty, were i keep my secrets aplenty. To many memories, and some might say not enough days. But i know you can help me, just promise you won't be mad when i run away

Nicole you saved me maybe, but then again I am far to damaged to bare this.

I've started making more room in the bed, for a lover who's not there. Hugging more than one pillow, funny how quick it turns from cold to hot. and i'm sharing the bed with memories of you. The memories take up all the room, but that is what memories do. The pillows don't hold me back, though the memories do. Need to move on, Need to run, but I can't even make for the door. All I can do is over think.

Am I aloud to live here? Or do I have to go outside?

You take off your make up before you leave so bold, A day on the sofa trying to work out last night's blanks, and unfold. It was a different you a different skin, You could of been anyones for the simple price of a drink. But now afternoon has left you sore and all alone. Not a single memory of how you got home. But it doesn't stop you, while others say it should, But they leave their make up on wishing that they could. And you know Wednesday is a long time till you feel right again, Then the boredom leads to another weekend. They say you should stop and all the things you could do, But they simply don't understand why do the things you do. You grow scared of the message tone, Another reason to hide, But the truth is you made it through another night.