I was always an unusual girl.My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean.
Who are you?Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?I have. I am fucking crazy.But I am free.
I once had a dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events some of those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.But I didn't really mind, because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.
Now this might disturb you, but I find I'm OK by myself;and I don't need you or your benevolence to make sense.
I was wasting my time, praying for love.For a love that never comes, from someone who does not exist.
Skies are crying,I am watching,Catching teardrops in my hands.Only silence, as it's ending,Like we never had a chance.Do you have to make me feelLike there's nothing left of me?
As the smoke clears,I awaken,And untangle you from me.Would it make you feel betterTo watch me, while I bleed?All my windows still are broken,But I'm standing on my feet.
The best ideas will eat at you for days, maybe even weeks, until something, some incident, some impulse, triggers you to finally express them.
But I know just what it feels like to have a voice in the back of my head, like a face that I hold inside, face that awakes when I close my eyes, face that watches everytime I lie, face that laughs everytime I fall. (It watches EVERYTHING) ... But the face inside is hearing me, right beneath my skin.
From time to timeI once wondered how one wanders from time to timeAnd think up the paradox lineSpeak of Epoch's crimeOh I lied, it hasn't happened yetBut bet you better believe it's such a habit thatI just said that in a past mindset
A steampunk nationBaby pollution rises up then the loving comes arraigning 'causeOur art's official and only partially artificialAnd our heart's in the middle of sharp hardened shards of metal butThere's not where it settlesBecause it's beating to the steaming of God's hottest pot or kettleAnd now we face it, this creation we made toTo save our craving for a synthetic rebelnation it'sOur safeway they make into a pathetic revelationIn our steampunk nationOur steampunk nation
My task is set before me, girl My mission clear and true There’ll be black knights and dragons, girl But I will always come for you…
Music is the secret language that effortlessly connects our bodies, our minds, and our souls. I’m addicted to the lyrics— they speak to me in a way only he and I will understand. So, until it’s safe to speak my mind, I’ll speak to him through lyrics. I’m addicted to him. He’s a song I never want to end.
In starlit nights I saw you,So cruelly you kissed me.Your lips a magic world,Your sky all hung with jewels.The killing moonWill come too soon.
But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying,If I am dead, as dead I well may be,You'll come and find the place where I am lying,And kneel and say Ave there for me,And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be,For you will bend and tell me that you love me,And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me
Your life is a movie. You are the main character. You say your scripts and act to your lines. Of course you do your lines in each scene. There is a hidden camera and a director who you can ask for help anytime up above.
Maybe you'll change Abandon all your wicked waysMake amends and start anew againMaybe you'll seeAll the wrongs you did to meAnd start all over, start all over again.Who am i kidding?Now, lets not get overzealous hereYoure always been a huge piece of shitIf i could kill you i wouldBut it's frowned upon in all fifty statesHaving said that, burn in Hell.